


An unexpected case

by TheLadyofMusic, whitehart



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Background Mystrade, Father-Daughter Relationship, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mycroft's Meddling, OOC, Other, Overprotective Mycroft, Parent!lock, Sherlock Being Sherlock, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-04-26 01:04:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 26,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14390913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLadyofMusic/pseuds/TheLadyofMusic, https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitehart/pseuds/whitehart
Summary: Sherlock and John are just getting comfortable with their lives together, their little family with Rosie feeling complete. However, when the result of drug hazed night is left on their doorstep, life may prove to be not as smooth as John had begun to believe it could be.





	1. Chapter 1

As Big Ben struck twelve midnight, a cloaked shadowy figure walked up along Baker Street, carrying a large basket in their arms, the contents of it covered from the cold night. The rain was crashing and smashing down on the hidden figure, who sped up their steps, trying to keep the basket as dry as they could. Upon reaching the correct door they knelt down and laid the basket on the doorstep, before ringing the bell repeatedly on 221b. They looked down at the item they were leaving, but upon hearing the occupants’ voices from inside, the shadowed figure turned and fled.

 

“Are you ‘specting s’one ‘Lock?” John mumbled into Sherlock’s shoulder, as the doorbell went off continuously for twenty two times.

“Am I expecting someone? No John. Now… Please go and get the door, before our landlady wakes up and threatens to not make tea in the morning.”

The doctor groaned and lifted himself off his side of the bed, before pushing Sherlock off the other side.

“You weren’t sleeping anyway.” John peeked open one eye and saw Sherlock fully dressed, lying on top of the duvet. “And you’re dressed! Go and get the door, NOW.” The sternness in his voice got the detective off his arse, heading straight to the door, while John slipped on the jeans from that day, along with an old army t-shirt.

He sighed, rolling his eyes when he didn’t hear the from door slam, or his partner come back up the stairs. He went up stairs, popping his head in to see if Rosie had been awoken by the bell. She had, but fortunately was entertaining herself so John decided to leave her be.

“So who was it?” The cold wooden steps creaked as he walked down towards the front door behind his lover, who was frozen with the door wide open.

“Sherlock? What is it?” John asked, while he looked out around the detective, his heart stopping as he looked down.

“Oh dear god! Bring the poor thing in, before they freeze to death!”

“NO! We don’t know what’s beneath  _ it _ . It shall remain outside until we--” The detective’s words were cut short when John shoved him aside and carried the baby out from the basket.

“Shut it. This, Sherlock, is a baby. And the baby is a  _ she _ . I will take care of her while you examine the basket…” Sherlock opened his mouth and tried to argue, but before he could say another word, “not negotiable. Baby stays until we find out who she is. Now get the basket, I’ll head up to start the fire.”

John left Sherlock no room for argument. He took the steps two by two and hurried to start a fire. It was a chilly night, he was surprised the baby wasn’t making a fuss about the cold. Nevertheless he settled her on Sherlock’s chair, before going to get one of Rosie’s old blankets.

Sherlock followed a few minutes after, carrying the basket at arms length, his face scrunched up in disgust.

“It… Did it’s business… In the basket…”

John couldn’t help but roll his eyes, looking over his shoulder he gave him a warning look.

“Well, deal with it then, you’ve changed Rosie, it’s no different from hers,” he said,  before turning his attention back to the baby girl laid on the soft seat before him. He pulled back the pathetic excuse for a blanket she had been wrapped in, trying to swap it with Rosie’s. He looked at the infant's now unhidden face,  and his eyes grew large.

“I think I know why she was left on our doorstep… You have some explaining to do, Mr. Holmes,” he put a fresh nappy on the infant, cleaning her up before hand. He held the still silent child carefully, as he had learnt to with Rosie, feeling her light nasal breathing on the base of his neck.

Sherlock groaned, cleaning out the basket as best he could, fortunately it had mostly landed in the makeshift nappy the baby had been wearing.

“About what now? How I still don’t know everything about babies? Not like I’ll ever have my own, least… Not the way you do.”

“Oh?” He turned to face him, eyebrow raised, baby girl in his arms.

The little girl already had a near full head of dark, curly hair, her eyes were near identical to Sherlock’s, mixture of green, hazel and blue. Her nose and mouth were a mix between his strong bowed lips, but her lower lip formed a stronger string to the uppers bow, his prominent nose now had a slight tilt up, making it more pixie like.

Sherlock frowned as he saw the resemblance between them. The baby girl was getting uncomfortable and started wriggling in John’s hands. As John repositioned her around his arms, Sherlock took a step closer to observe.

“I can see the resemblance, but I assure you I have not engaged in activities that would produce an offspring.”

“Or maybe you’ve deleted it… Going by her age, it would have been… Just after Mary’s…” He took a breath, rather than finish his trail of thought, “who knows what you may or may not have engaged in… Either way… You can’t deny she is near identical to you,”

Sherlock glowered at his partner, his eyes going to the infant once again, brow creased.

“We already have one child, we don’t need another,” he said, walking to the sofa.

John scoffed in disbelief of what he was hearing.

“It doesn’t work like that… We’ll get a DNA test done, and if she is yours then she stays.”

“And if she’s not?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, either way you have to get used to having an infant around you, so consider her more practise… Hopefully Rosie’s doesn’t get upset by the newcomer,” John smirked.


	2. Chapter 2

She stood in the cold, hidden by the shadow in the alley across 221b Baker Street, eyes locked on the front door where her newborn baby sat in front of. An apology was not enough to encompass how she felt about leaving her with them. There was no way she could take care of the baby on her own, let alone in her state of postpartum depression.

The door opened and a familiar figure stood there for a moment before a second shorter figure scooped her baby up into his arms, and eventually they disappeared behind the closed door.

She gave out a sigh of relief and gathered herself, left the alley and walked back to her own flat. As the rain fell heavier on her head, her mind wandered, eventually recalling the conversation she had before making this decision of abandoning her child at someone else’s doorsteps…

**_“Think about it. The child would need a stable home to grow up in. My brother is getting better with social interactions, albeit rather slowly. They would be great fathers to your child. Besides, every action, every word, every step this child takes will remind you of the love you lost. It won’t do you any good, and you should know it could drive your depression further downhill. A child possibly with a disability won’t be easy, and you are in no state to take care of her. You could if you were not in your current emotional condition.”_ **

**_“But they put themselves in danger all the time! How does that make my child’s life any better or easier? I’m not giving her up just because she would remind me of him… She deserves a good life.”_ **

**_“Not if I’m doing everything I can to keep my nieces safe. She will have great parents, and a wonderful family. What if you could be a part of her life, just not as her birth mother, would you be amenable to that suggestion?”_ **

**_“Let me think about it. We have a couple of months before I go into labour, but please Mycroft, promise me you will keep this between us. There is no need to disrupt what John and Sherlock had just found with each other.”_ **

**_“You have my word, and my respect, Miss Hooper. Not many women would give up an opportunity like that to seal the deal.”_ **

**_“You know your brother better than me, but I know he wouldn’t want the baby. Even if he did, he wouldn’t be with me because of it.”_ **

**_“Very well, I shall keep in touch.”_ **


	3. Chapter 3

The couple, mainly Sherlock with John watching to ensure it was suitable for the baby, made a little makeshift bed for their unexpected guest in the bottom draw of the chest of draws at the foot of their bed.

“Rosie will get jealous..” Sherlock said under his breath, making his partner roll his eyes as he carefully bottle fed the still unnamed infant.

“No she won’t, as she isn’t that much older than this little lady,” Sherlock shot him a look, which only made John smirk, “besides, it’s only a temporary thing…”

“The baby?”

“No, Sherlock, not the baby, as there is little doubt in my mind that she is yours. Temporary as in the bed… We’ll get her her own set of things tomorrow…”

“What if it isn’t mine?”

“Shut up,  SHE is, she’s staying, that’s the end of it…” He said, looking down to see his lover's eyes gazing back up at him. The little girl was gently pawing the bottle away from her, brow creased slightly making him chuckle. “Alright, alright, you don’t have to have any more, little miss…” He put the bottle to the side before shifting the child to burp her gently.

“You’re getting too attached to it…”

“Her, and no I’m not, she’s our little girl too now, so get used to it… The question you should be asking is where’s her mother…”

 

The two went to bed, putting the little girl in the makeshift bed. Although, Sherlock didn’t stay long enough to even try to sleep, once he was sure John had nodded off, or at least was distracted enough, he slid out of bed and went back to sit on the sofa, phone in hand.

However, John hadn’t been able to get to sleep either, the thought of Sherlock sleeping with someone else kept him away from drifting off, driving him crazy. This along with worry about getting a court date for the DNA test, the paperwork that was sure to follow… What if they tried to take the little girl from them? Could they do that? It was beyond obvious, to John at least, that the child was Sherlock’s. The only possible silver lining could be that when the DNA test was done, would they know who the mother was?

At four twenty in the morning, John had had enough of shifting in bed trying to sleep. He rolled over to speak to Sherlock, only to see his side was empty. He rolled his eyes with a sigh. As he was sliding out of the bed, the little girl started to stir, no doubt a sign she needed attention of some sort.

“Hey, it’s alright, I got you,” John hushed as he lifted her up, bouncing her slightly, nuzzling her cheek. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

He shuffled gently towards the kitchen, having learnt while raising Rosie, babies at this age would be more irritated at large movements. Shuffling seemed to have worked well with Rosie, so he assumed it would with this baby too.

This baby was Sherlock’s, however, and his method did not work for her.

The moment he stepped into the kitchen, she started crying, throwing her fists at nothing.

“Jesus!” John jerked at the sudden cries, jostling the baby slightly. He tried everything he could think of to try to soothe this sudden tantrum, but nothing seemed to work. He fed her, changed her, even sang to her, but nothing worked.

Sherlock was the calm in the midst of the storm. He hadn’t left his position on the sofa since he’d gotten up, he sat watching his partner try to calm the infant to no avail. What John did next was as good as a DNA test.

He placed the baby on Sherlock’s chest, the baby girl hushed, immediately.

“Well, look at that. Not your baby hmm?”

Sherlock looked down at the baby. She was sucking her thumb contently when Sherlock lifted one hand and placed it on her back.

“Not enough data. John, we need to sort this out. I’ve asked Mycroft to check the footage in the surrounding area and set us a court date to sort out custody of…” Sherlock motioned towards the baby on him, “this.”

“Right. We are getting custody of her, Sherlock. I’ll file for a DNA test when I get into the clinic later.”

“John, there is really no need--” Sherlock was interrupted by a burp, and subsequently cooing noises. A gentle smile appeared on Sherlock’s face for a split second before he put on his mask, but John hadn’t missed it. He knew Sherlock was warming up to the idea of having another child at home.

“Yeah, course there’s no need, you’re just smiling like an idiot over the idea of getting rid of her… Pull the other one Sherlock,” he said, rolling his eyes, sighing as he heard Rosie begin to stir, “well this is not how I intended on these two meeting but… So be it…” He said, leaving the room to go check on her.

Sherlock looked down at the infant who was resting against him, brushing a piece of her hair aside he saw that she was watching him intently, startling him for a moment, as he was near certain that she had fallen back to sleep.

“Who is your mother…” He asked the baby girl softly, as if the child could answer. She merely stretched, grasped onto his shirt before closing her eyes, a small sleepy smile on her lips.


	4. Chapter 4

Slowly waking up, Sherlock found himself in an unknown location. The ceiling was not his bedroom, nor John’s. He was nowhere in 221B. In a quick glance, he saw pictures of someone familiar on the bedside table, but he couldn’t put his finger on who it was. Everything was a little blurred, as if he was… tired… drunk…

_ High. _

A slight stir from his side gave him a shock. Was there someone next to him all these while? He turned to his side and saw a person under the same sheets as he was.

“How are you feeling?” The other person asked.

“Who are you?” He couldn’t clearly see the person’s face, but he was sure this was a woman.

“You don’t remember anything… I should’ve known you wouldn’t do this if you were in your right mind.” She whispered softly. She sounded… disappointed?

“What did I do?” As soon as he asked, he realised he was naked under the sheets. Embarrassment. Guilt. 

_ What have I done? John... _

“Nevermind. Just… go home.” She left the bed and locked herself in the bathroom.

_ I should apologise… or just go. But who is she? _

 

“Sherlock? Wake up.”

_ John. _

“Are you alright? You almost dropped the baby” John was holding the baby in his arms, shushing her back to sleep again. At the same time, he was nudging Sherlock with one knee, balancing himself with the other leg.

“Had a dream. Or a memory recollection.” He rubbed his face in his palms, wondering if he should discuss that piece of information with John.

“Want to talk about it?”

“Not now, but it may have something to do with her. The night she was conceived. Might have some clues to who the mother is.”

“Whenever you’re ready love.” With a kiss on his forehead, John took the baby into their bedroom where Rosie was taking a nap on their bed.


	5. Chapter 5

Rosie stirred, sitting up, head still bobbing as she looked at her dada holding…

“Baba?” She asked, yawning as she blinked hard, her hair messy from rolling in her sleep. John slowly turned to face her, the other little girl in his arms

“That’s right Rosie, this is your little sister…” He said softly, sitting on the bed beside her.

“Baba… Sisa?”

“Yes, your sister. She’s Sherlock’s little girl…” He said, brow creasing as he contemplated future questions that may come up.

“Shery baba?”

“Thats right sweetie,” he said, turning the infant so his little girl could see her properly.

Rosie scooted closer, brow creasing like her fathers as she looked at the little face. She giggled slightly, reaching for the little ones hair.

“Shery hair,” John gently pushed her hand back, nodding.

“She does have Sherlock’s hair, you’re right.”

 

Sherlock stood by the door, listening to John and Rosie quietly. Their bedroom door was slightly ajar. John had started this habit after the baby monitor incident. They had left Rosie to nap alone in their room with the door closed, and neither of them realized the baby monitor ran out of battery. The day ended with Rosie wailing and a small bump on her head.

He had always felt guilty about silly little things like that. Sherlock would always tell John ‘if she ends up stupid it would have been my fault’ or ‘I should have noticed, I always notice these things’. But John would never blame him.

**_“She’s not recognizing triangles John. It’s my fault.” Sherlock sighed and threw himself on the sofa, away from Rosie on the floor with her toys._ **

**_“She’s only ten months old Sherl. Give her some time. Besides, she’s a Watson. A little bump won’t turn her brain into mush.”_ **

**_John walked over and flopped himself on top of Sherlock on the sofa._ **

**_“Ouf! You’re heavy.” Reaching up, Sherlock found John’s lips with his own. A soft, gentle peck to let his doctor know he was fine._ **

**_“You’re comfy. I don’t wanna move.” John felt warm and solid against him. He felt safe, pinned down by the weight of his Captain-doctor._ **

**_“Sherrrrrry!”_ **

Memories are frail little things. They bend and break all the time. He didn’t remember Rosie calling him ‘Shery’ when she was ten months old. She had a one syllable vocabulary and a list of fifteen words she could use at that age.

“Shery!” A sharp tug on his trousers made Sherlock blink hard a couple of times. He was now standing by an open door to their bedroom, and Rosie was below him, pulling at the leg of his trousers.

“Sherlock, are you alright?” The question came from their bedroom. John was leaning against the headboard in bed, the baby in his arms, gently rocking the sleeping child.

“Yeah, just thinking about… things.”

“You don’t  _ just  _ think about things standing at the door like that. Come here. Talk to me.” John motioned for him to the bed. “I’m not moving with this little angel asleep in my arms.” He continued when Sherlock did not move.

Sherlock walked solemnly towards the bed holding Rosie’s hand. He lifted her to sit between himself and John in bed and settled himself on his side, stretching out his endless limbs above the duvet.

“She’s mine.” Sherlock said after a long while in silence. 

A light chuckle escaped John’s throat. “Took you long enough to admit that. Even Rosie could tell” 

“Shery baba.” Rosie pointed towards the baby and looked Sherlock straight in his eyes.

“Rosie, it’s bay-bee. Bay. Bee.” Teaching Rosie diction was one of Sherlock’s favourite moments. It was always amazing to see her picking up words, learning to speak properly instead of baby babbles. At her age, she was well ahead of her peers, and he always made it a point to tell her how proud he is of her.

“Bay-bee.” She carefully bit those words.

Sherlock’s lips curved up into a smile and her eyes lit up.

“So proud of you little bee.”

A tight hug and plenty of kisses later, Rosie sprawled across Sherlock’s torso as she started to drift off back to dreamland. With the baby and toddler both asleep, John laid the baby on the bed, laying a wall of pillows around her. Sherlock did the same, slowly moving Rosie back on the bed and placed pillows around the edge to keep her from falling off.


	6. Chapter 6

John went out first, quietly walked towards the kitchen and put the kettle on. When Sherlock came out, he left the door slightly open then sat on the table where John was waiting with two cups of tea. He tilted his head and smiled at Sherlock, waiting patiently for him to start.

There was a deep sigh, followed by a groan. Sherlock looked up from his tea to John’s face and saw him staring. Those mesmerising blue eyes were always Sherlock’s weakness.

“John.”  _ So many things went wrong. It was a mistake. _

“Yeah.”  _ Good things came from it. Let the past stay in the past. _

“I’m sorry.”  _ I didn’t know what to do with my emotions. I’m sorry I was stupid. _

“I’m sorry too.”  _ Sorry I didn’t tell you earlier that I love you. _

“It was Molly. It’s the only reasonable choice.”  _ I wouldn’t have went to anyone else in that state. _

“How?”  _ Molly must be devastated. _

“I was high. I’m sorry.”  _ Sorry I broke your trust. _

Those unspoken words were obvious. They both knew what happened, and they were both to blame.

John reached out and held Sherlock’s hands in his, wrapped around the tea cup.

“Nothing to be sorry for. It’s all over. We need to know for sure, and move on from there, alright?”

Sherlock nodded. His eyes felt moist. 

“Hey Sherlock, look at me?”

Sherlock felt John’s hand cupping his face. He opened his eyes and felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He didn’t realize he had his eyes closed.

“John. I don’t know what to do.”

“We will get through this, together, alright? I’ll always be by your side.”

Sherlock took his hand in his, kissing along his knuckles as he looked him in the eye, nodding.

“Of course…”

 

Inside their room, a short time later, Rosie stirred. She sat up, looking around, brow creased as she did, her vision still blurry from her light nap.

“Wer evey on go?” She asked the air around her.

She looked to the door, seeing it open a crack she nodded to herself, crawling towards the edge of the bed. Her legs were hanging off, when she heard a soft sigh come from inside the room. She froze, looking around slowly, her heart racing, till her eyes landed upon the dark curls of her new baby sister. Her eyes lit up as she scrambled back up onto the bed, going to her side, giggling as she saw Sherry’s eyes looking up at her from her sisters face.

“Yo can’t hav Shery’s eyes an hair, silly, he ned tem too…” She said, still giggling at her own little joke.

The baby merely tilted her head, looking up at her with an expression of unimpressed and bewilderment. Rosie sat back, shaking her head.

“Yo rally are Shery’s baby, he give daddy ta lok all the tim… Why yo no talk baba? Wha yo nam?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've read this before June 7th 2018, there's an extra bit in this chapter! xx

Outside the room, Sherlock put his fingers to his lovers lips.

“Listen, I think someone is awake.”

Heavily, John lifted himself off the kitchen stool, dropping his mug loudly into the sink. Sherlock was right behind him when he pushed the bedroom door open. The sight before him was adorable. Rosie perched on one of the pillows between her and the baby, wiggling her index finger above the baby’s face. The baby, giggling, thrashing her tiny arms and legs around, trying to grab Rosie’s finger.

“Hello loves. Did you sleep well?” John laid down on the bed behind Rosie and hovered over her. Unexpectedly, the baby stared at John for a second, or two… and started crying.

“No! Daddy! No!  _ Shhhhhhh… _ ” Rosie slapped her palm on John’s head, trying to push him away while hushing the baby.

Before John could reprimand his daughter, he heard Sherlock mumble behind him. “Protective. Just like your daddy.”

“Daddy?”

The baby had stopped crying.

“Baba no nam?”

“The baby’s name?”   
“It’s bay-bee, Rosie.” John and Sherlock replied together.

John turned to face his lover, a small smile on his lips

“The baby’s name, Sherlock. She’s yours afterall” Small snores can be heard from the other side of the bed. “Looks like she’s asleep again.”

“Now I’m not sure if she’s mine. I didn’t sleep this much, even when I was a child.”

John rolled his eyes, now bouncing Rosie up and down on his lap at the edge of the bed with Sherlock sitting very still next to him. He looked over and saw a man deep in his own thoughts.

“You’re really thinking hard about it huh?”

“Names determine the fate of a child, especially during her schooling years.”

“Speaking from experience, Sherlock?” John teased with a loving smile on his face only to realize Sherlock frowning. His lover jerked slightly when he placed his hand on the small of his back.

“William. Or Billy, or  _ Willie. _ It was unpleasant.”

“I’m sorry love.” John tried to change the subject and offered a few ideas for the baby’s name. Myra, Octavia, Melissa…

“Melissa? John, have you not learnt anything after all these years? Why would I name my offspring such a common name? Melissa Holmes.” Sherlock tried to enunciate that name a few times before rejecting it completely.

“Why not? It means bee. You love bees!” All John got in response was a head full of black curls shaking ‘no’.

“Nam her flowa, like me!” Rosie proclaimed after a few moments of silence, disturbing the infant for a moment, though she seemed to roll her eyes beneath her lids and fall back asleep.

“Calm down Rosie,” John said softly, a small smile on his lips, turning to face his lover, “why not?”

“Rosie’s name is Rosamund…” He muttered. “Right, little bee. I just might.”

“You don’t have to decide now. We have to get some paperwork done before that.”

With that, John lifted Rosie in his arms and carried her out into the living room, leaving Sherlock in the bedroom alone with his sleeping baby.

Sherlock was in and out of his mind palace, wary of the baby next to him. As he stared out the window into the dark, his mind replayed the night they found her. She came, like a little demon in the night, lulled him closer and more attached to her day by day...

“Lilith. Lilith Abi Holmes… Watson-Holmes… Holmes-Watson.” He mumbled as his mind palace opened up a new door next to Rosie’s in John’s wing, with a shiny plaque on the door labelled with her name - Lilith Abigail Watson-Holmes.

 

Once John had put Rosie upstairs to sleep, he quickly went back down to the bedroom and found Sherlock in his mind palace, stupidly grinning to himself. The baby was awake.

“Oh hello there.” John cooed. “Are you hungry baby?”

“Lilith. Lilith Abigail.” Sherlock said as he slowly opened his eyes. He reached over to carry the baby, and swiftly moved towards the door.

“Lilith? Are you sure?” John leaped off the bed while his mind whirred with all the stories he had heard about the legend of night demon Lilith while he was deployed in Afghanistan. It also meant ‘night’ in Arabic, as well as being Adam’s first “disobedient” and “headstrong” wife, before Eve… Not the best name for a baby if you believed in that sort of thing...

Sherlock read his body language and concern about the name. He gestured for John to sit down. “I am well aware of the connotations behind that name, John. However, she does remind me of a lullaby,  _ lilith abi _ . Calm and loving. And it fulfils Rosie’s request of a flower. Lily for short.”

The look on Sherlock’s face resolved every single strand of concern John had. That was why he was smiling stupidly to himself! “Oh look at you all sentimental! Naming your baby with such care. I bet Mycroft would kill to see this with his own eyes.”

“He probably already did. And John…”  _ Watson-Holmes… Holmes-Watson. Stop it Sherlock! _

“Hmm?” The doctor looked up from his chair and saw Sherlock handing the baby over to him. As he reached out to bring Lily into his arms, Sherlock leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

“Our baby.” He whispered with his lips still on John’s forehead, and their baby between them.

John nodded, smiling stupidly to himself. The newly named babe rolled her eyes beneath her little eyelids, snuggling into John’s chest.


	8. Home Alone

Just when John thought everything would get better, the next few days snowballed downhill. Lestrade called with a case and Sherlock left without saying a word in the middle of the night, leaving John with a two year old toddler and a seven month old baby.

“Rosie! No!” John yelled as Rosie threw the skull across the room. She had been annoyed by Lily’s presence and went against everything John said. With a loud sigh, John watched as the skull, Billy, shattered into pieces against the back of the fireplace. Lily started squirming in his arms when Rosie tried to climb over the baby fence.

“I give up. I. Give. Up!” He laid Lily down on his chair and locked Rosie in her playpen. The children were wailing, screaming and crying, but John couldn’t do it anymore. It had been four days alone with the kids and he had taken time off the clinic.

“Sherlock, please come back. I need you.” He whispered as he reluctantly carried Rosie with him on one arm and Lily in the other, gently shushing them both to sleep.

 

Four days. It was a five when he arrived at the scene, but it turned out to be a ten! Oh glorious days! A beautiful string of serial murders that seemed to be unrelated, but if anyone could see the pattern, it would be Sherlock.

“Go home, Sherlock. There’s nothing more.” Greg hung his head between his shoulders, exhausted from running around with Sherlock the past three nights. “How does John do it?”

“You should ask him. John?” He spun around the spot, eyes darting around before it went back to staring down at Greg. “Where’s John?” Sherlock asked innocently.

“He’s not here. You came to the scene alone four days ago… Oh Jesus, Sherlock! You actually thought John was here! I thought you were just mumbling to yourself all the while!” An exasperated sigh left Greg lungs as he slapped his palm on his forehead and held it there.

“I do not mumble, Lestrade.” Without another word, Sherlock ran out of Lestrade’s office, much to the DI’s delight.

_Home. John is home with the… our kids. I left him alone with two kids... Damn it Sherlock! Idiot!_

 

As the cabbie took the last right turn towards Baker Street, Sherlock bounced his feet nervously. He had left John. He promised he would never do that again, but he just did.

“John!” He yelled while taking the stairs two at a time, hoping to find John awake, and apologise before he gets mad.

“Where are you-- _John…_ ” His sentence trailed off in a whisper when he opened the door and found John with both children in his arms, all three asleep in his chair facing the door. He walked slowly towards John and traced his jaw lightly with his palm.

“Sh’rlock?” John mumbled as he slowly roused from sleep, eyes still closed and pulled the children closer to himself.

“Yes, I’m home John... I'm sorry...”

“About what?” He opened his eyes slowly, whispering to avoid waking up the kids.

“Running off like that. I thought you came with me. Didn’t realize you weren’t there until… an hour ago?” Sherlock raised his eyebrows, questioning himself and avoiding eye contact with John.

“Take Rosie off me, would’ya? My shoulder hurts.”

Sherlock carried Rosie into the bedroom and laid her in the middle, turned on the baby monitor and went back to the living room.

“John. I’m sorry… It… It must’ve been tough with both of them…”

“Shut up. You…” John’s nose flared.

“You’re angry.”

“Of course I am! You just… left! What were you thinking Sherlock? You are aware that we have additional responsibilities now, do you?” John motioned towards Lily, and found Sherlock frowning when he looked up.

Sherlock never frowned like that… except for that one time.

_“Would you be my best man?” And Sherlock frowned. For a long time…_

He stood up and reached out to hold Sherlock’s face in his hand. Pain shot through his shoulder when he lifted his hand and he hissed. Sherlock came out of his thoughts when he heard the hiss, took a step towards John and held the doctor by the back of his neck. Gently he bent down and gave John a chaste kiss on the lips before reaching out to pry Lily out of his arms.

“Wait here.” Sherlock said while turning around, headed towards the bedroom. Once he settled Lily down, he went back to the living room. John was in his own chair now, one elbow on the arm of the chair, hand holding his head tilted on one side.

_He’s thinking... It’s over, isn’t it?_

“No it’s not over, you idiot.” John said but he was still staring straight ahead at the window behind Sherlock’s chair.

“You read my mind.”

“I have the best teacher. Sit down love. We need to talk.”

Sherlock moved quickly and sat down on his own chair, pulling it closer so he could reach John by stretching out his arms.

“I’m sorry I left--”

“No.” He cut him off, finger pointing at him accusingly, “you promised you wouldn’t do that again. You do realize now we have Lily, yeah? Our baby, you said. I needed you, Sherlock. I almost gave up. I almost… the thought of not having you around anymore… I just… can’t.” John bit off a sob, but Sherlock knew what was going through his mind.


	9. Flashback

When Sherlock ‘died’, John almost went with him. Thousands of miles away, Sherlock would receive reports from Anthea or Mycroft about one of John’s suicide attempts. He had letters written to Sherlock before he swallowed a bottle of pills, or sitting on top of Bart’s… until Mary came along. She was John’s saving grace - their saving grace. Despite her actions later, there would have been no John Watson to come home to without her.

She saved John from John’s own hands. She saved him from grief.

Sherlock came home to a broken John Watson, and with their relationship in pieces. A piece of the soldier died with Sherlock two years ago. When John asked him to be his best man at his wedding with Mary, a piece of Sherlock died at the altar. Another piece of Sherlock died when Mary shot him. Another when she intercepted the bullet meant for him, when she bled out before him, when she died in John’s arms.

It wasn’t until Rosie’s first birthday it all came together.

She had spent the night with Mrs Hudson when Mycroft came over with a pile of documents. It was the paperwork for Moriarty’s case, and a small folder on Mary.

**Mary Elizabeth Watson (Rosamund Mary Morstan)**

The bold dark letters on the file caught Sherlock’s eyes. John closed the file after looking at the first page and decided to not read it.

“John?” Sherlock was concerned. There was something in the first page that made John… cry.

“She was one of the snipers. Her assignment was Doctor Watson.” Mycroft said without missing a beat. “She knew you were both in love, and if you were not dead, John would be the first person you’d return to, if not for as well.”

“Wait,” Sherlock stopped listening when his brother outed both of them in one sentence, “In love?”

“Ah… I believe it’s time for me to leave.” The sound of his shoes clacking and the taps of his umbrella against the floor faded, and the flat was once again in silence.

John and Sherlock stared at each other. The doctor’s eyes were cold and hardened, Sherlock’s soft with regrets. As Sherlock opened his mouth to apologise, he saw tears falling down John’s cheeks. He reached his arms out and held the doctor’s shoulders, who immediately slumped against Sherlock’s chest. He was sobbing out loud, tears falling in a continuous stream.

“Sherlock… I’m sorry. It must have been… so… difficult for you to see us… getting married… and…”

His sentence was cut short when Sherlock lifted his face by the chin, wiping John’s tears away with his fingers before crashing their lips together. It was deep, filled with all their apologies, regrets and pain, all in that one longing kiss.

“I meant what I said, John. It has always been you. You keep me right, John Watson.”

“I love you too.”


	10. Chapter 10

Sherlock opened his eyes.  _ When did I fall asleep? Oh, John… _ He had John in his arms, both of them curled up on the sofa. John was snoring softly against his chest, a piece of paper held tight in his hand between them. Sherlock pried the paper, apparently a letter, away from John and started reading it with his arms around John.

_ Sherlock, _

_ Before you think otherwise, nothing is ending between us. We need to work on communicating with each other better. You’ve just left for four days without a word. There is so much I would like to say to you, but you’ve escaped into your mind palace. I couldn’t get you out. I could tell, you were thinking about what happened on Rosie’s first birthday. You had that same expression on you when we kissed for the first time. There was nothing we could have done differently in the past. I am just glad that you’re here with me now. _

_ But we really need to talk about you running out and not answering your mobile. They were invented for people to keep in touch. _

_ Love, _ _   
_ _ John _

 

“Are you back?” John’s voice was rough from sleep. He looked up and saw Sherlock nodding, holding the letter between their face. 

“Yes. This is a good idea, writing letters.” A smile formed on John’s face, and Sherlock leaned in, smiling against those lips. “I know how you feel about me leaving. I’m really sorry John. In my mind, you were with me. It wasn’t until the end of the case that I realised you weren’t really there. I’ve been projecting  _ mind palace John _ into reality without realising it.” He whispered as he pulled away from John slowly, but still close enough that they were breathing each other in.

“You know how you are during a case… that explains how you always think I’m around… wait, you have me in your mind palace?”

“You’re my gatekeeper, my assistant, my bodyguard and my cleaner. In my mind palace. But there was no excuse for my behaviour. I am sorry John.”

“Apology accepted. But we do need a better way to find you if your brain decides to do this again. And uh...” John grinned sheepishly while waving towards the fireplace, “that’s Billy’s final resting place. Rosie decided to throw a fit this morning.”

“Hmm, I guess I’ll have to get another one from Mol…” Sherlock paused, wondering if Molly was back at St. Barts or still on vacation.

“Don’t think she’ll be too happy to give you anything now love.” John stretched a little before getting up and giving himself a full stretch, popping joints, and let out a satisfied sigh of relief. He gave Sherlock’s face a gentle pat and went into their bedroom to check on Rosie and Lily.

He could hear Sherlock shuffling around the flat as came out into the kitchen. As he grabbed two cups and set the kettle down to boil, Sherlock’s footsteps became quicker and louder until they stopped behind him.

“John. I said could you pass me my phone.” His hand outstretched with his palm up, the tip of his middle finger poking John’s bicep.

“When?”

“Five minutes ago.”

“Again? Didn’t notice I was in the room checking on the kids? Anyway, I haven’t seen your phone, at all.”

Right when the kettle started to whistle, John’s phone vibrated with a text message. Before John could reach for it, Sherlock had read it and showed it to John. It came from Sherlock’s phone.

**You won’t get rid of me. I will take back what’s mine. -M**

They could only stare at one another. While Sherlock wondered what great puzzle is coming next, John started to worry about the children being around.


	11. Chapter 11

“Moriarty? Mary... Mycroft?” John asked as he sipped his third cup of tea. Sherlock had been staring at John’s phone for hours while he typed up their last case on the blog.

“Can’t be. Moriarty’s dead, so is Mary... Mycroft might be a control freak, but he wouldn’t play games like these. He knows I can’t beat him.” John gave Sherlock a surprised glance for admitting that Mycroft was smarter…

“You just… admitted  _ that _ out loud!”

“Admitted what?”  _ I will deny it till the day I die. _

John chuckled, but at the back of his mind, he was worried. Even more than before, because now they had the children to think about.

Sound of the door opening and closing downstairs jolted them both. Someone had let themself in. Before John could rush towards the door, Sherlock placed a hand on his shoulder, silently telling John to relax.

“It’s Molly.”

The click of her kitten heels coming up the stairs gave her away. Sherlock opened the door just as she took the last step on the landing.

“Oh, Sherlock. You startled me.”

“Come in.”

John had prepared another cup of tea for her. She rarely visited. Now he was anxious because he knew Molly was Lily’s biological mother.

She sat in his chair. He placed the mug on the table next to her before sitting beside Sherlock on the arm of his chair. She took a sip of the tea and fiddled with the handle of the mug, eyes locked on her slight reflection in the tea. No one said a word until the baby monitor started crackling, and a soft coo echoed in the quiet flat.

“Lilith Abigail Watson-Holmes.” Sherlock said, breaking the silence, his tone matter of fact. Molly looked up, slightly startled.

“Sorry?”

“That’s her name, if you’re wondering.” Their guest hung her head again.

“You know...”

“We both know.” John said, hand brushing Sherlock’s briefly.

Once again the room fell silent. The tension between Molly and Sherlock made John uncomfortable, shifting slightly every time Molly stared daggers at him.

“Let me go check on the kids.” With that, John left Molly and Sherlock alone. They needed to talk.

 

Molly turned around and her eyes followed John towards the bedroom.

“She’s in there.” Sherlock said, bringing Molly’s attention back to him.

“If you’re wondering why I didn’t tell you…”

“You didn’t want me to find out, because I would have told you to get rid of it. You wanted to keep something of me. I can see it in your eyes, Molly. When John kissed me good morning in the lab, or when we show up at the morgue disheveled. You wanted to keep the baby, yourself. But someone convinced you to give it up. For what reasons, Molly? Were you threatened?”

“No, Sherlock.” She gritted her teeth. “You don’t get to be concerned now. When John got married, you were in pieces! Who put you back together, hmm? Who was there for you? I was! When Mary was… Killed, who was there in John’s place?! I was! I kept you entertained, I kept you company, I even let you stay with me when you almost burned this place down! But… you went and got high, and we slept… together. You cried and called John’s name… over, and over.” By now, Molly was hunched over herself, face buried in her hands, elbows dug into her knees.

**_Sherlock remembered everything that happened that day. Rosie was only two months old when Mary was killed. John blamed Sherlock, for everything. And for the longest time, Sherlock did nothing except for sleeping, eating (damn John for making his transport used to this amount of food intake!), and getting high. He had received an invitation to Rosie’s first birthday, and the thought of meeting John again, of being a part of John’s life again, scared him. He was terrified of the idea that John was just being polite, that he would only be able to see the love of his life once, or twice a year. The thought of never being able to be close to John almost made him delete his feelings._ **

**_No, never. He would never have been able to delete anything concerning John._ **

**_But he could numb it._ **

**_He ended up knocking on Molly’s door thinking it was John’s._ ** **_  
_ ** **_He ended up kissing Molly, while whispering John’s name._ ** **_  
_ ** ****_He ended up in bed with her, thinking of John as he held Molly close._

**_Calling for John._ **

 

“Molly, I’m sorry. There is nothing else I can offer. But why now?”

“Mycroft.”

“What did he offer you?”

“You, he offered me you. That our baby would have a father, a family… That she would have you…” She drew in a deep breath, “I was depressed, Sherlock… I… I still am. I couldn’t believe you didn’t remember.”

**_Of course he had forgotten about that night. He stumbled out of Molly’s apartment and slept next to Bill, one of his best men in the homeless network, around the corner of Baker Street. When he woke up the next morning, he vaguely remembers having sex with John, but brushed it off as a dream._ **

“That explains your reaction during Rosie’s birthday party.”

**_Molly had wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s waist as they sang Happy Birthday to Rosie, and he shrugged away. She stared at him blankly, before it morphed into disappointment, hurt, betrayal,  anger - all within six seconds._ **

“I didn’t know I was pregnant until two months later, but by then... John had already moved back here.”

**_John had moved back to Baker Street the day after Rosie’s first birthday. Weeks following that, they had many conversations about what had happened while they were apart. They were officially together, and two months after moving back to Baker Street, John decided to come out to the world about it. He wanted to tell their friends before announcing it through their blog, so they showed up at Bart’s to tell Molly._ **

**_Only she wasn’t happy about it._ **

“You had John fooled, but not me. All this time I’d just thought you were sad because…”

“I wanted you.”

**_Her lips were smiling, congratulating John and hugging him close, but her eyes were sad._ **

“It has always been John.”

“I know.”

**_John smiled and kissed Sherlock in front of Molly, holding the detective’s hand over the microscope while handing him a cup of coffee with the other. He had hurt Molly more than he could ever imagine, he had no doubt about that, but..._ **

“You left Lily with us. What do you want now?” His voice was cold, detached. 

In the short time he’d known and had his daughter in his life, he had grown as close and protective of her,  _ his  _ Lily, as he was of her sister. Molly may be her mother, but she had made her move.

“I want her back.” He looked at her, slightly surprised by her bluntness but as ever refused to show it. He rose to his feet, making his way towards the bedroom.

“I believe John needs to be here for this conversation.”

“No he doesn’t. He has no right--” Her words stopped short when her eyes met Sherlock’s. 

For the first time in their relationship, she saw fire within them. Fire, yet it was as cold as ice. He turned, scooping up a stack of papers off of the side table, he faced her and dropped them into her lap.

“We are both her father, he has every right.”

Molly slowly, with shaking hands, made her way through the pile of documents. It was a court order. Both his and John’s names were upon it, listed as her legal parents. The next document was a DNA report, matching Sherlock with Lily. Beneath that was her birth certificate, and the last one was a certificate officiating a marriage, but only signed above Sherlock’s name. She looked up, to say something. Object, question, beg? But he was gone, having continued his way into the bedroom.


	12. Chapter 12

Sherlock had picked up the documents on the way back from the Yard. When he found out about Molly, he had requested for the documents to go through pronto. Mycroft already knew what was happening, and he had signed off on the paperwork without further bargaining.

He felt pride swelling in his chest when he walked into the bedroom and saw John hovering over Rosie with Lily cradled in his arms. ‘ _ What have I ever done to deserve this? _ ’ He thought, just as John turned around and beckoned him to sit on the edge of the bed next to him.

“Everything alright? You look pale.” John placed a hand on top of Sherlock’s, rubbing his thumb over the back of Sherlock’s hand in an attempt to soothe him.

Sherlock took a deep breath and said softly, “John, I know we haven’t talked about this, but you need to pretend like you know when we go back out to talk with Molly. If it’s too difficult just stay quiet and calm.”

“What did you do this time?”

“Nothing bad, I promise. Trust me.”

John reluctantly nodded, and handed Lily to Sherlock before he carried the half-asleep toddler in his arms, leaving the room to face Molly.

 

When Sherlock came back, John was with him, Rosie in his arms and Lily in Sherlock’s. They both sat side by side on the sofa. Lily looked over her shoulder at the stranger, narrowing her eyes, as if trying to recall her face from her own mini mind palace. Instead turned back to her father, snuggling closer to him, patting his cheek lightly. He smiled softly down at his daughter, kissing her hand, feeling a slight swell of pride and relief in his chest.

“You are definitely mine…” He said softly to her, before looking back to their guest, his smile vanished. John sighed slightly, looking at Molly.

“Molly, we want you to think very carefully about what you want before you say another word. I’ll have you know now, when it comes to Lily, I understand that you are her  _ biological _ mother, however…”

“You chose to give her up, and she will not find that out until she asks us on her own free will.”  Sherlock cut in, causing his partner to roll his eyes.

“I just want to be a part of her life! You cannot deny me that, Sherlock, John. You… can’t.” She trailed of in tears. 

John rose to his feet, carefully placing Rosie in her playpen, where she happily started building houses with blocks. As John knelt in front of Molly and held her hands in his, she shrugged away and reached for something in her bag. The soldier in John sensed it was dangerous and grabbed her wrists, yanking them towards him.

“Molly. Listen, you’re not in the right place to be near a child, or by yourself. I’m saying this as a doctor. You’re emotionally and mentally wrecked. Whatever you were going to do is not the answer. You need to get better first, then we can discuss your involvement in Lily’s life. In the meantime, let us take care of her, alright?”

As if there were bugs in the flat, the door opened with Anthea walking in. For the first time, she wasn’t looking down on her Blackberry.

“Doctor Watson, I’ll take it from here.” She was her usual self, calm and collected. 

John moved aside as Anthea promptly lifted Molly up from the chair, one arm around her waist, the other hand quickly grabbed Molly’s bag, leading her down to a waiting car. Molly was too exasperated and dazed out to care what was happening around her. She would need all the help she could get, and who better to take care of it than the British Government himself?


	13. Chapter 13

John sat back on his heels on the floor, staring at the door until Anthea closed it. His eyes shifted to the pile of papers on the floor that fell off Molly’s lap when she stood up. He saw the court order, the DNA report, and the form… the one without his signature above his name.

“Sherlock?” John turned over to see his consulting detective next to him, one one knee, and a ring in his hands. His eyes went past his lover for a moment, relaxing as he saw Lily resting against the back of the sofa, before going back to Sherlock.

“John Hamish Watson, will you give me the honour of becoming your… husband?” Sherlock’s eyes begged John, not only to say yes but to forgive him. Forgive him for hurting him. Forgive him for betraying him. Forgive him for Lily.

“Yes. Yes I will marry you, Sherlock Watson-Holmes!”

He looked at John for a long while before he bit out “You knew,” and rolled his eyes.

“Of course I knew. Your brother was pretty easy to bribe if you know what he wants.”

“Cake.”

“And one detective inspector on a silver platter.”

“Urgh,” came a little voice from behind them. The two turned to see their youngest, propped against the back of the sofa, rolling her eyes- or atleast seeming to- at the pair.

Rosie giggled, clapping as she watched their parents, doing an excited little jig.

“Daddy marry Sherry!” She cheered, singing it over and over again. The two looked to her, before laughing lightly, kissing each other.

A cough from the door made them both jump and turn around to find Anthea standing there with one hand out, pointing Sherlock’s phone towards them.

“Watch where you’re going next time, Mr Holmes. Good day doctor Watson… congratulations.”

“Keep it to yourself.”

“Will do.”


	14. Chapter 14

John sighed heavily, looking at himself in the mirror. This was going to be one of his most difficult assignments. He closed his eyes, gearing himself up for it, his lover and husband to be behind him, seemingly doing the same.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked Sherlock.

“Mycroft, in his infinite wisdom, told them about Lily, and they insisted on visiting ‘this very instance’.”

“Your brother’s a git,” he said, making Sherlock snigger slightly.

“I am more than aware of this, I assure you. But mother did say she will be bringing pie.”

“That’ll make their visit better… as long as Mycroft doesn’t go anywhere near the pie.”

On the bed beside them, their daughters played together. Well, more Rosie played with Lily, who simply sighed and went along with it. Seemingly due to her being a Holmes by birth, Lily was more advanced than Rosie had been at her age, showing abilities she shouldn’t have been able to do for another two months, according to the books - which were not worth the paper they were written on, in Sherlock’s mind - yet she seemed content to be a doll to Rosie, only putting her foot down when her older sister went a little too far with it. Anything that was pink or had thrills on it was usually the line for her.

“Little ones,” John said softly, turning to face them. Lily looked to him, a small smile on her lips. Rosie looked to him as well, once she realized she no longer had her little sister’s attention, “well, more Lily, but your grandma is out there, with grandad and uncle Mycroft.”

Lily tilted her head slight, eyebrow raised, forcing John to stifle a laugh, her face seeming to say “are these names meant to mean something to me?”

“Oh she is so yours Sherlock,” he said, picking up his own daughter, as Sherlock picked up Lily. “Hopefully that doesn’t follow through to us…” He muttered, following him out to the room where Sherlock’s parents and brother sat.

Sherlock’s mother turned, beaming at the little girls, she rose to her feet, scooping up Lily, making the infants eyebrows crease out of uncertainty. She held the infant close, before lifting her up so she could see her properly.

“Oh William, she’s beautiful, definitely yours, has your eyes and hair…” She lowered her, cradling Lily on her lap. “What is this about you trying to disown her?”

“We found her on our doorstep, mother, forgive me for not instantly wanting to take her in…” He replied, earning only tuts from his mother, which Rosie began to copy, giggling.

“Honestly Will, I don’t understand your disdain for children. Both of your girls are nothing but delightful!”

“Tea, Mrs Holmes?” John cut in, only earning a scowl from Sherlock.

“Oh please. Splash of milk and no sugar for me, and their father takes it the way Sherlock does.”

John nodded and turned around into the kitchen. While he was waiting for the water to boil, he felt Sherlock’s presence behind him.

“I knew you were going to say something about your mum’s remarks.”

“And tea makes everything better? How English of you.” 

“Disdain is a really serious emotion. Is she really your mother? Does she know you’re incapable of that sort of emotion?” John huffed with a smile on his face.

“Sarcasm is very unbecoming on you.” Sherlock reached over John and pulled four mugs from the shelf above them, placed it down on the counter next to John.

After John dropped teabags into the cups, he turned around to face Sherlock. “You have to tell me what that remark about  _ disdain for children  _ was.”

“No doubt Mycroft’s version on how Lily was taken in by us… He does love to play mother, after all.” He said, watching his lover pour in the water from the corner of his eye.

“And his love for the dramatics. Let’s get back before your mother teaches Lily how to knit. I saw that bag out there with some sweaters.” Sherlock scoffed, shaking his head.

“She’s more likely to use the needles as weapons, to escape being cuddled and coddled to death,”

“Hold that thought and take these out,” John shoved a tray with four cups of tea into Sherlock’s hands, “while I slice that pie… if Mycroft haven’t gotten to it already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft loves pies. That makes him just a tad bit more human.


	15. Chapter 15

All in all it was a good day. Mr and Mrs Holmes were decent people. Warm, cuddly and surprisingly normal, like John’s own parents were. He had had to intervene when Mrs Holmes got too cushy with Lily, her tiny hand reaching towards the knitting needles, a wicked glint in her eyes. Rosie, on the other hand, loved being the centre of attention, giving her sibling bemused looks at her clear dislike of it.

_ How did they end up with children like Mycroft and Sherlock? _ John thought to himself while he changed Rosie’s nappy.

“John!” He heard Sherlock yell, followed by loud thumps of his footsteps coming up to Rosie’s bedroom, followed by the creak of the door.

John looked over his shoulder to find Sherlock with his ‘what have you done to my things, it is important’ face. Almost instantly John knew what it was about.

“Your mother insisted that I keep those hand-knit jumpers. Such a waste to throw them out.”

“You have enough jumpers, John. And they are taking up my half of the wardrobe.”

“Half? You must be joking!” John laughed while he threw the wrapped nappy towards Sherlock. “More like a quarter’s mine. At least now I have one-third, you git! Besides, it’s cashmere. Still not high fashion enough for you?”

“Fashion is not determined by the material. It takes an aura of individuality and authenticity to--” Sherlock stuttered off when John held up one hand hand put Rosie in her crib with the other. She was already asleep while he changed her diaper. John took one last look at Rosie, checked the baby monitor and pulled Sherlock out into the stairwell. 

“Were you seriously about to give me a lecture about fashion?” He asked with an eyebrow raised, gently padding down the stairs avoiding the creaky step.

“Yes John, and let me finish my point.” 

“Nope. You’ll take all night telling me about different shades of red.” John said while they both walked towards their bedroom, Sherlock threw the nappy into the bin while they walked past the kitchen.

“I thought you liked listening to my voice.”

“Only when the words are about a higher being and my name.”

“Really, John? Have you forgotten that Lily’s in our bedroom?” Sherlock whispered into John’s ear, one hand holding the doorknob, the other snaked around John’s waist, pulling the doctor towards himself.

“I guess we could lock the front door. The sofa’s not great for my shoulder but it’s been awhile.” John tilted his head up and nipped along Sherlock’s neck, breathing heavily as arousal began to course through his veins.

“We don’t exactly have another option.” Sherlock said as he pulled them both towards the living room, and that was the last coherent sentence heard in that flat until the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had contemplated to add on at the end of this chapter to bump the rating to E... but ultimately decided against. Dear readers, please feel free to explore your imaginative minds. xx WH


	16. Chapter 16

Lily had been in their lives for six months. At the end of the fifth month, Sherlock noticed that John had begun to rush around frantically, going shopping and bringing home non essential items. Whenever Sherlock brought it up, John gave him a seemingly disapproving look and a stern “I know this more than you do,” so he had learnt to leave his lover be. John had also started to take Rosie along with him on his shopping trips, but insisted upon leaving Lily at home with him, this had put his nose out. John was starting to show distinct favouritism. It made sense for him to have a different bond with Rosie than he did with Lily because he was her father by blood, but to dismiss Lily…  _ unacceptable. _

On the twenty-fifth day, Sherlock, or rather his brain, had had enough. He woke up an hour before noon to find Lily stuffed next to him in bed where John was supposed to be, and the man himself was nowhere to be found in the flat.

John was out, again. He had found himself mothering Rosie more than necessary in the past twenty-odd days since Lily came into their lives, even more so once it was official. Subconsciously he was doing it because he didn’t want Rosie to feel left out. Consciously, he had no idea how to deal with three babies in the house now.

_ Yes, Sherlock is the biggest baby of them all… _ He thought to himself as Rosie skipped down the street towards the bakery.

“Daddy look!” Rosie’s chubby little finger pointed at the display, the other hand waving for John to hurry, “It’s a beeeeeeee!” She squealed and dragged out the ‘e’ until she was out of breath.

“Wow, that is adorable.” John knelt down on one knee to be level with Rosie, held her shoulders and asked, “you think Lily would like this cake?” In his mind, he knew Lily was too young to appreciate the cake, neither would she have any. The cake would be for everyone else attending her first birthday. It would be for Sherlock.

The tinkling of bells snapped John out of his musings and followed Rosie into the shop. The shopkeeper, who was obviously also the baker, came out to greet them. She was a chubby old lady with a floral patterned apron hugged tightly around her waist, a pair of gold rings hung from her neck with a twine rope you would use on Christmas presents. Faded skin on her ring finger was still visible even from afar.  _ Recently widowed, not doing well enough to get a nice gold chain for their rings. Damn, Sherlock is rubbing off on me. _

“Hullo deary. See something you like?” The lady asked over the counter, bending down to look at Rosie. “We have all sorts here, and I bake them all myself.”

“Good af’noon ma’am!” Rosie said in a high pitched voice, “we want a cake for Lily buh… buff-day!” The baker gave Rosie a warm smile before looking up to John, looking for an explanation, or translation.

“Yeah, we’re looking for a birthday cake for my daughter’s first birthday?” He paused when the lady look at him with one eyebrow raised at Rosie. “Oh, not this one. We have another at home,” he quickly added, at the same time he thought of how natural it was for him to refer to Lily as ‘my daughter’, a smile coming to his lips at this realisation.  _ She is my daughter. _

“Her name is Lily? What about a…” she paused while flipping through a catalogue on the counter, “garden cake? I did this one for a wedding few months ago, but we can redecorate it, add a little pink to the sides, some lilies down the middle here. It’s vanilla cake on the outside, rose flavoured cream and good ol’ buttercream layers.”

“Can we have bees, daddy?” Rosie looked up at him with those puppy eyes.

“Of course you can deary.” The baker answered before John could ask.

“Thank you. That would be perfect.”


	17. Chapter 17

Meanwhile, within two two one b, Sherlock was pacing back and forth, planning what he was going to say to John once the girls were in bed. Lily sat in her father’s seat, watching him, her little brow raised. When Sherlock turned around and saw her face, he grinned. 

“I can see the resemblance. Let’s hope you have my brain as well.” That earned a wail from Lily, making Sherlock snigger slightly. Lily had been in a bad mood since he’d gotten her up, no doubt due to John disturbing her earlier than she liked. “John must have had fed you, changed your nappy, and bathed you before putting you in bed with me,” Sherlock mused as he wiggled his fingers above Lily’s face, trying to distract her. “I’m sure you made your disapproval clear,” _ no doubt earning grunts and wails of annoyance, what did he expect…  _ He shook his head as Lily calmed down.

John had been growing ever more concerned about her development. She was physically developing, at a rate that made sense considering who her father was. She was able to stand unsupported, walk (or more like wobble) slightly, though often gave up out of annoyance at how frequently she fell. She could identify objects, as well as body parts and people. She just wasn’t talking. 

He had tried every method and trick that had worked for Rosie, but their youngest refused to say anything. What irritated him most was that he was seemingly the only one within the flat who was annoyed by this. Rosie was happy to talk to Lily, without getting any response other than squeals, grunts, and sighs, demonstrating her powerful vocal range. Sherlock seemed indifferent to his own child's silence, she was developing enough for his tastes. As for Mrs Hudson… She simply assured John that Lily would talk “when she is ready”, and he was “not to worry, dear, she is a Holmes, after all.”

His reaction to this had not gone unnoticed by his lover. As he paced, he weighed out the possible effects that this was having upon John’s relationship with Lily; was he leaving her with him, so he could have more time with his ‘normal’ child? This thought hurt Sherlock slightly, the thought of John punishing Lily,  _ his Lily _ , for being quiet.  _ And I thought most parents would wish their children were quiet…  _ He frowned and rolled his eyes as these sarcastic thoughts entered his mind, before turning his full attention back to Lily, who smiled brightly at him, reaching for him. He couldn’t help but beam at his little lady as he picked her up, instinctively she rested her head against him, rolling her eyes to meet hisl. 

He side stepped so they were in front of the mirror, one of the ever growing list of objects that she liked, but  was not allowed near, the others being such as the knife in the mantle piece, Sherlock’s cigarette stashed in the fireplace (which was once safely guarded by Billy until Rosie murdered it, not yet replaced), as well as the fireplace itself. Lily lifted her head, watching her reflection, brow creased and eyes narrowed, as the mirror Lily copied her, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

“Lily?” He said softly, she turned her head to face him, as he stroked her cheek lightly. “Do you know who that is?” He pointed to her reflection, with her following his hand till she saw herself again. “That is you, that is what you look like, Lily. My clever little girl,” he kissed the top of her head. She looked at him, then over his shoulder to the door when she heard the front door open and her sister’s voice. Sherlock sighed, holding her as close as possible, protective of his baby girl.

“Sherry, we back!” Rosie cheered, making her way upstairs, as John shut the front door before following her. She stretched her neck as far as she could to try and see them, waiting for John to release the baby gate before rushing over to the pair. “Sherry and Lily up!” She cheered, giggling.

“Yes we are…” He looked to the door as John walked in, bags in hand, “why don’t you and Lily play for a little bit, I need to talk to daddy.” Their eldests brow creased, before she nodded, reaching for Lily. “Come on, in the playpen,” he said, gently putting Lily in as Rosie scrambled over and into it beside her, cuddling her little sister close. A small immediately came to the infant's lips, though her eyes remained on their fathers.

“What is it Sher?” John asked as he put away what he’d gotten while out with Rosie.

“Bedroom.” The detective said simply, brushing past him as he went into the room. John sighed, deciding it best to follow rather than make him wait.

 

He walked in, closing the door behind. Sherlock stood with his back to him, arms crossed. John shook his head, walking over to him he placed a hand on his shoulder, gently rubbing it in an attempt to soothe the obviously sulking detective.

“What is it, Sher?” He asked, brow furrowing as his lover turned to face him.

“You’ve started to spend more time with Rosie than Lily,” he said bluntly, stepping closer to him, “why?”

_ “Daddy! Sherry!”  _ Rosie called from outside of the room, both men brushing it off, they’d barely been gone five minutes after all.

John drew in a slow breath, bringing his hand back to his lovers shoulder. He should have seen this coming. He opened his mouth to respond but was cut off.

“Is it because she isn’t yours, like Rosie is?” He shrugged John’s hand off his shoulder and walked past him, trying to calm himself. Hearing his thoughts out loud seemed to have start a fire within him. “Or because she is more mischievous than Rosie was..?” He stopped, his back to John again, a tight frown forming on his face, “or, is it because she doesn’t speak, not meeting your  _ golden standards for development _ ?” He spat the last few words venomously.

John was slightly taken aback by the barrage of accusations that had been thrown at him, one after the other, the last one stinging the most. There was silence as he thought of how to respond to his, seemingly, paranoid lover’s accusations.

“Are you listening to yourself, Sherlock?” He walked around and sat on the bed, looking up at him dumbfounded, leaning forward, back hunched slightly, “you think that I might not love Lily, just because she  _ isn’t _ mine, or that she’s a handful sometimes, or- and I can’t believe this one- because she’s different from Rosie?” He took another slow, deep breath. “Do you know what day it is, in twenty one days?”

_ What does that date have to do with anything? _ Sherlock inwardly scoffed, before answering.

 

“ _Daddy! Sherry!_ ” Rosie called out again, the same tone, so neither were panicked. John knew she had been overly excited since she knew about Lily’s party, so put it down to that.

“The seventeenth of July, though I fail to see what relevance that holds, John, to you ignoring Lily.”  _ And Rosie, now.  _ “We’ll be out in a minute,” Sherlock called through to her.

John couldn’t help but cup his face in his hands, shaking his head with a loving smile. 

_ Of course he wouldn’t put two and two together…  _ John thought

“I am not ignoring Lily…” John said trying to hold back his giggles.  _ What an idiot. _

“You are going out without her frequently, today is the third time this week, and it is only Tuesday…”

“ _ Daddy! Sherry _ ”

_ He remembers what day it is when it proves a point…  _ John mused, smirking slightly as he drew his hands away. Sherlock turned his head towards him.

“I hardly see anything amusing about thi-”

“It’s her birthday.” He cut him off, looking up at him, “in twenty one days, it is Lily’s first birthday. I have been going out, with Rosie, to get everything ready for her party.”

Another silence filled the air. Sherlock kept his back to John, eyes closed as he scolded himself, lips pressed together.

“You bloody idiot…” John said softly, a slight laugh in his voice, as he rose to his feet, going towards his lover. “I adore Lily, she is my daughter, just as much as Rosie is. I just knew that you wouldn’t see the point in having a party for her birthday, since she won’t remember it, but I just thought it’d be nice for her… for us.”

“John I’m…” He said as turned to face him, only to be met with a kiss, his body relaxed instantly, John reached up and cupped his face carefully in his hands.

“An idiot, I know. But I love you all the same,” he lowered his hands, running them over his partners shoulders before dropping to his sides. “Best see to the girls, get them ready for bed…” Sherlock nodded, stepping aside, giving John access to the door. He opened the door, stepping out, “what do you fancy for…” He turned his head to face the direction he was going, only to see Lily sitting there, in front of the door.

“I did try to tell you…” Rosie said from the playpen, sitting facing their door. John chuckled, their girls proving to lighten mood almost instantly.

“You did, sweetheart, you did… Sherlock, come here,” he turned to the side so Sherlock could see out. “I think we’ve got a little monkey, not a little girl,” he laughed.

Sherlock looked at him bemused, looking to the playpen and seeing only Rosie… He looked down, closing his eyes as he grinned, shaking his head slightly.

“Come here you,” he laughed, picking up the little girl, kissing the top of her head, stroking her hair.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Next stop: Lily's first birthday party!

The twenty one days flew past, with Sherlock proving to be more helpful when it came to planning Lily’s party than John could have predicted. Lily went out with them shopping now, although she showed little interest in what they bought, rolling her eyes when Rosie shoved things in her face.

The week before her birthday, the two had arranged with Mycroft for Molly to come, under his and Greg’s supervision. Sherlock had objected at first, not wanting their little girls day ruined by her mother. John had been able to convince him that it may help Molly’s condition improve, as well as allow Lily to get to know her birth mother.

On the day itself, Lily and Rosie had been left in their cot and bed, to sleep in later than usual, while their dads prepared for the party. Sherlock put up banners and balloons, while John helped Mrs. Hudson bring up the food and drinks, laying them out on the dining room table.

“Oh, Sherlock, you’ve done a wonderful job.” She beamed, earning a small smile off of him, “I know she’s going to just love it…”

“I highly doubt that Mrs Hudson, considering…”

“She will, Sherlock, she may not remember it when she’s older, but I’m sure she’ll have fun today.” John cut in, shaking his head slightly at his partner as Sherlock climbed down.

“I’ll go get them up, Mycroft’s car is outside,” he said, making his way out of the room and upstairs. John sighed, closing his eyes, sniggering at Sherlock’s escape.

“Is Mycroft bringing Molly, or is Greg?” Mrs Hudson asked, bring John back to the room.

“Greg is, Mycroft is bringing their parents,”

“Aww, that’s nice. What about your parents dear?”

“They said they’d try to make it, but…”

“I understand dear, never mind. I’m sure Lily and Rosie will be happy either way.” The two looked towards the door, John rushed forward to open the baby gate, hearing the sounds of the usual “battle” upstairs: getting Lily to wear something she was not particularly fond of.

“Get back here, Lily,  John will not let you go to your party naked…” He heard Sherlock scold, making him laugh out loud.

 

Sherlock came downstairs half an hour later with the girls, both washed and dressed in their best clothes. Mrs Holmes sat talking with Mrs Hudson, while Mr Holmes spoke with Mycroft, John speaking with both of his soon to be in-laws. When the door opened, Mrs Holmes’s head shot up, beaming at her granddaughters.

“Hey, here’s the birthday girl,” John said, going over he kissed Lily’s cheek, nuzzling her gently. She giggled, grasping hold of his nose, making their guests laugh.

“Such a cheeky little thing, are you going to be a good girl for Grandma?” She asked, reaching for Lily. Lily’s brow raised slightly, before reaching for the older woman. Sherlock carefully handed his baby girl to his mother, as Rosie rushed to greet his father and brother.

“No sign of Greg?” Sherlock asked, looking to John who shook his head no.

“Not yet, you never know. Maybe Molly decided to not come,” Sherlock scoffed, shaking his head. “No, that would be too convenient…”

“Sherlock, she is Lily’s biological moth…”

“Who left her on our doorstep, in the middle of the night, in the rain… I have yet to see your point, John.”

“My point, Sherlock, is she wants to be in Lily’s life, and until she proves otherwise, I don’t think it is right of us to deny Lily the possibility of that bond. If Mary was still here I…” Sherlock took his hand, squeezing gently. John smiled softly, leaning against him.

“I know, John… You’re right. I just don’t want her to hurt Lily…”

“I know, and she won’t, no one will let her.”


	19. Chapter 19

An hour later, Greg pulled up outside. He got out the driver’s side, watching the passenger side as Molly slowly got out of his car, her eyes large as she looked up at the building.

“Here we are, hope we’ve not missed the birthday cake…” He said, trying to lighten the mood. Molly turned to face him, a genuine smile on her lips as she nodded.

“Yeah, I… I hope so too.”

He walked around to her, opening the door to the back seats he got out the presents for the little one. With his hands full, he offered his arm to her. Molly watched him, taking her present before lightly grasping his arm. He led her in and up the stairs. In the doorway stood Lily, looking down at them, having been drawn to the door by the sound of someone else coming in.

“There she is, the birthday girl. How are you gorgeous?” Greg beamed, making the curly haired girl giggle, reaching for him. “Go on in, I’ll come give you a cuddle in a minute.” He said, making her drop her arms to her side, pouting, narrowing her eyes as she marched off. Greg sighed, shaking his head, he looked to Molly, shrugging. She was still smiling, though it vanished when they looked back up and saw Sherlock looming over them.

“Gavin,” he nodded, glowering at Molly before following after his daughter.

“He hates me…” Molly said softly, hanging her head. Greg went to object but… Couldn’t. Not after what he had seen.

Sherlock had made his disdain towards Molly’s attendance clear from the moment the idea had first came up, Greg put it down to John that he had relented. In all honesty, the inspector found himself torn. He had seen, what he partially considered, worse mothers than Molly during his time with the police, yet… After that night… He’d lost most of the respect he had for her, this only changing for the better when she gave Lily to the boys at two two one b.

John came to the door when he heard Greg struggle with the baby gate, he chuckled slightly.

“It stops toddlers and police, I think if Sherlock knew that he’d have installed it himself,” he said, as the inspector gave him the finger.

“Not round the girls,” Sherlock scolded, passing the door, Lily in his arms, giggling as ever as her beloved father told someone off.

Greg scoffed, shaking his head.

“He really has taken to it, hasn’t he, this whole fatherhood thing?”

“Yeah, I think Lily has really made a big difference…” He looked to Molly, “hi, Molly.”

“Hello, John… Thank you for letting me… I appreciate how…” He put his hand on her arm, nodding.

“You gave Lily life, it’s only fair you get to know her.” She nodded, ducking her head still, offering up the wrapped box.

“I brought her something, I hope that’s ok?”

“Of course,” he said, carefully taking it from her, “I’ll put it with her other presents.” With her hands free, she stuck them to her sides.

“I was just saying to Molly, I hope we haven’t missed the cake,” Greg said, as John took the gifts he was carrying off of him.

“No, close though. Mycroft hasn’t let it out of his sight,” John laughed, leading them in.

Mrs Holmes looked up, catching Molly’s eyes she held her gaze, till the younger woman looked away.

“Poor thing… William shouldn’t be treating her that way.” She mumbled out of everyone’s earshot, except Rosie who was sitting on her lap.

“Who's William grammie?” The little girl asked, making Mrs Holmes laugh, kissing her cheek.

“Sherlock’s real name is William, dear"

“Huh, I prefer Sherry,”


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday Lilith Abigail Watson-Holmes!

Sherlock stood next to the fireplace, holding Lily in a protective grasp, eyes locked, and narrowed, on Molly. John led the timid woman over to him, raising an eyebrow at him. He smiled softly at their little girl, who was watching Molly curiously, brow creased, little hands grasping onto her fathers shirt. 

John sighed, closing his eyes,  _ damn it Sher, you’re making Lily nervous _ . He cleared his throat, reaching forwards he took one of Lily’s hand.

“Lily, this lady is someone very special. This is Molly, she is your mother,” he watched attentively at the little girl’s reaction. Her attention had shifted to him, watching him as her grasp on her father's shirt loosened, sitting back in his arms. John reached for her, carrying her carefully with her back against his chest, facing her towards Molly.

Molly couldn’t help but beam at her little girl, who watched her, more curious now than weary. She slowly reached towards her, taking her hand.

“Hello Ra-- Lily, you are such a beautiful little lady, I like your dress…” This earned an annoyed grunt from her, making Molly let out a little laugh, “no, I didn’t think you’d be the dressy kind of girl.” She let go of her hand, stroking her curls, “I love your hair…” Lily pointed to her father, Molly let out another small laugh, “you do have your fathers hair, that’s right…” The heat of Sherlock’s eyes were burning into the side of her head, “I’ll let you get back to your… Dads,” she kissed her forehead, walking to the other side of the room.

Sherlock watched her as he went to John's side, stroking Lily’s hair tenderly, kissing the top of her head.

“I think it is time for presents,” John said, watching the two. Lily grasped hold of her father's hair, giggling as she tugged on it lightly.

“I think so, come on little imp, time to see what people have bought you,” he laughed, taking her hands out of his hair, kissing her little fingers as John carried her over to the present pile.

“Oh John, we should cut the cake first before presents!” Mrs Holmes chided, just as John was about to sit Lily in her high chair.

“Right... Then shall we, Mycroft?” He asked the older Holmes, frowning, but a spark in his eyes told John he was ready to have cake.

Placing a candle in the center of her cake, John asked Greg if he could light the candle while he stood on the other end of the table with his phone, ready to record it.

Molly felt really out of place now, the large happy family around her… So when she saw John getting ready with the camera, she went over and held out her hand, “here let me. Go over and stand next to her.” John reluctantly handed the phone to her, before going to the other side of Lily. Once he was in position and Molly was recording, everyone started singing Happy Birthday.

“Blow the candle out little one,” Sherlock said to Lily with his face right next to hers. She tried to, but all she succeeded doing was blowing spit out of her pouty cupid lips, her brow creasing in annoyance. Sherlock encouraged her to try again, but this time he blew out the candle from behind her. Lily’s little hands started clapping, and she squealed with glee.

“Yes! You did it! I’m so proud of you!” Sherlock beamed,  _ like when his experiments went according to his expectations _ , John thought to himself as he watched his lover bounce their youngest in his arms. 

Rosie was already perched on the table with Mycroft, eyes locked on the cake as the British Government himself started to slice it. 

“I want the bee uncle Mike!” She yelped as he handed her a slice without. Mycroft looked to his sibling, brow raised lazily.

“Did you teach her to call me that, brother mine?”

“May or may not have… Mikey.” He said, as everyone bursted out in laughter, even Mycroft let out a little chuckle at the thought. Just out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw Lestrade smiled and winked at him. 

_ Perhaps I wasn’t imagining things after all,  _ he thought, smirking. Sherlock’s hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his musings about Greg.

“Keep an eye on Lily, will you?” His younger brother whispered. Lily was now waddling around the kitchen, holding onto a chair now and then. “Rosie’s making a fuss. John’s gone to put her to sleep upstairs, and Mummy wants to have a word. Apparently I’ve been a unfairly cruel to Lily’s mother.”

Mycroft, being in an excellent mood, decided to run along with it and offered Sherlock a “godspeed”, as he patted him on the back, smirking, before turning back to the most important matter, standing across the table - Gregory Lestrade.


	21. Chapter 21

As any conversation with Mrs Holmes goes she was, and is, always right.

“You should always treat a lady with respect, even if she’s not welcomed in your life.” He sighed, nodding.

“Yes mother,”

“And you should always be the bigger person, William.”

_ Mycroft has always been bigger! _

“I thought we taught you better when you were a child.”

_ A child. If someone told me eight years ago I would be engaged to John, with two beautiful daughters, I would have thrown them into the Thames. _ His eyes went around the room, _ Lily’s being really quiet... _

“Where’s Lily?” Sherlock snapped and looked around the flat while his mother was mid-sentence. The entire room paused. Time stood still. “WHERE. IS. LILY!” He shouted while his long legs took him face to face with Mycroft in a few large strides.

“I saw her crawl to where you were about five minutes ago. Did you not see her?”

“I asked you nicely,  _ very nicely _ , to keep an eye on her.” He looked over to Lestrade and his mouth dropped open, “instead you kept your eyes on Lestrade!” With a dramatic flail of arms, he ran in to check their bedroom, bathroom, in the cupboards under the sink, while everyone else hustled around calling for Lily.

“What’s the ruckus down here? Can’t you keep it down?” John grumbled with Rosie in his arms, wide awake and grumpy as he hopped down the stairs. “Rosie was just falling asleep, then all this noise… Sherlock?” He paused at the door outside the baby gate, and chills ran through his bones when he saw everyone turning the flat upside down, calling out for Lily.

He now relied on his years in the army, at war, and what it had taught him.  _ Do not panic. _ He suppressed his fear, eyes scanning the room.  _ Greg, Mycroft, Mrs H, Sherlock’s parents, Sherlock… _ His blood seemed to turn to ice as he realised…

“Where’s Molly?”


	22. Chapter 22

“Mummy, I assure you, the entire Secret Service is looking for Lily right now. She is my absolute priority.” Mycroft said calmly as he ushered his parents into one of his cars.

“She better be. And you, keep an eye on your brother. That man of yours can wait.” Mrs Holmes spat as she slammed the car door shut.

Taking a deep breath, Mycroft closed his eyes, his hand squeezing his lips slightly. He knew he had fucked up. Losing sight of Lily was the first part, distracting Lestrade from monitoring Molly was the second. The steps leading up to two two one b seemed like climbing Mount Everest -  _ yes I have climbed Mount Everest, twice, in fact  _ \- when he did not want to face the boiling rage named John Watson.

“Promises promises promises!” Sherlock chanted as he hovered behind Mycroft. “You promised that you’d keep an eye on Lily. We only invited Lestrade because he was supposed to watch Molly!”

“Sherlock, not helping.” John said simply, as his lover glanced at him and away. John stood in the entrance to the kitchen, looking towards where Greg sat, who was now holding a sleepy and grumpy Rosie. She kept twisting and turning in Greg’s arms, annoyed by the sound of Sherlock pacing back and forth against the wooden floor, and the Holmes brother’s constant bicker. John’s shoulders sagged as moments ticked by. 

Exhausted by the commotion, he felt a desperate need to be close to Rosie, to know that Rosie was with them, safe. Sitting next to Greg, he held Rosie’s hand in his, feeling the little heartbeats on his index finger, and the warmth that spreaded in his palm.

“I’ve asked Dimmock to spare no one. All hands are on deck here,” Greg placed a hand on John’s weary shoulder. “We will find her.” Greg bit his tongue when he was about to make a promise.

Sherlock caught the end of Greg’s sentence and noticed how he pursed his lips and his hand rubbing John’s shoulder. 

“You’re right to not make another promise, you son of a bit--” The rest of Sherlock’s word was drowned by three simultaneous voices from the rest of the room.

“Hey! Rosie’s here!” John yelled while reaching over to cover Rosie’s ears.   
“William Sherlock Scott Holmes!” Mycroft blurted out with a dramatic spin to face Sherlock.   
“Shhhhhh!” Greg hissed, covering John’s hands over Rosie’s ears

Pushing Greg’s hands away from his own, John stood up and marched over to the mantle, in between the brothers and pointed his finger at Sherlock, “you, shut up.” He turned and pointed the same finger at Mycroft, “and you, get out there and find her.”

When neither of them moved, John steeled himself and put on his best Captain face, deepened his voice then barked a loud “now”, before moving back to the sofa for Rosie, watching the brothers scramble quickly out of two two one b.

“Come ‘ere love.” He took Rosie out of Greg’s hands and motioned for him to follow them. Once Greg was out and doors locked, he placed Rosie in their bed before rummaging their closet for his gun. 

Lily was kidnapped right under their noses. How much safer could they be now? Better to be safe than sorry. He pulled his chair to face the door, gun securely on his side, ready to be drawn at anytime. The search would have to go on, out there, without him.

 

As always, Sherlock had split himself away from Mycroft and went on his own search. He had decided against Mycroft’s plan to trace Molly’s footsteps, and instead headed towards Molly’s flat.

On the opposite end, the DI sped through the night streets of London, Mycroft in the passenger seat with Anthea on speakerphone. “Sir, we are tracking her movements by CCTV footages, but she disappeared after crossing the Thames into Battersea Square.” Anthea reported while flooring the pedal on her car, headed towards where Molly was last seen.

The first thought that came to Greg’s mind was same as Sherlock’s - that Molly would head back to her flat, or straight out of London to her parent’s. “But her flat is on the other side, and Paddington is just few streets over.” He thought out loud.

“Then… where is she taking Lily?”


	23. Chapter 23

Molly looked around, the toddler pressed close to her chest, her heart racing as she made her way to the agreed meeting point. She looked down at her little girl, smiling softly down at her.

“My good little girl, mummy will keep you safe…” Her brow creased slightly.

During her race from two two one b, across and to the edges of the city, Lily had been silent. The only sound she’d make was a soft coo now and again, looking around her, her little eyes taking everything in. She closed her eyes, inwardly thankful for her being a Holmes, her lack of tears or whinging had made the journey so much easier. She shielded the child’s ears as she approached the helipad, the blades started as soon as she had come into the sight of the man she was to meet.

“Miss Hooper, I was starting to worry you had been intercepted…” She shook her head no, as he helped her on. 

He fastened her in, looking to the child with a curious brow, before taking his seat. Lily looked around, her little mouth hanging open, making her mother laugh.

“This is a helicopter, Rachel. It takes you up into the air,” she said, before kissing the child’s forehead. 

They began to ascend, Molly holding her little girl close. Lily felt an odd sensation in her ears, she didn’t like it, not one bit. She whimpered softly, looked around for any signs of her two fathers only to see a stranger. He smiled slightly at her, but she looked away. Her eyes went to the floor for her sister, nothing but only shoes. She looked up, another stranger. She began to wail, her hands clenched into fists as she hit Molly’s chest with all her strength.

“St… Stop it. Calm down, stop being silly… Shut up!” She snapped, frowning at her daughter, taking hold of her little hands in an overly tight grip. 

This only pushed Lily’s cries to a more piercing level, not only were her dads not here, but now this strange woman was hurting her.

“Maybe… I could take her?” The man asked, only to get glared at by Molly, who pressed Lily to her chest harder.

Lily cried and screamed for the whole journey, kicking her mother hard, biting her with the few teeth she had. Molly’s grip only grew more vice like.

Molly looked out at the building before her, a small smile on her lips. She had out done both of the Holmes brothers, and now stood outside Sherrinford. She held Lily in front of her, the child had grown tired from fighting her, as well as the day in general. 

“Behave now, we’re going to meet your Auntie.”

 

Molly found it shockingly easy to get through the maximum security facility. While at the party she had been able to pickpocket Mycroft’s pass, his infatuation with the DI proving of great use. If she was stopped at any point, she merely flashed it to the member of staff.

“He said it was arranged, I’ve brought their niece to meet her, I really don’t want to have to fly back before we’re expected…” She said, the lines she had practised for months seeming to come naturally to her lips.

Doors were unlocked, and Molly was offered to be escorted. “Good, you can carry her, little one isn’t a big fan of flying…” but when she tried to hand Lily over, they had to finish reports or check on something. 

She was let through to the large room before long, with the glass panel separating any visitors from the youngest of the Holmes siblings.


	24. Chapter 24

John eyes snapped open from his light doze when he heard a scratching sound coming from the back of the flat. 

“Daddy?” He heard Rosie when he got closer to the bedroom door. Quickly, he hid the gun in the freezer and went to his little darling.

“Did you sleep well love?” John got onto their bed, under the blanket with Rosie and held her close.

“Yes!” She squealed and bounced on the bed before she looked around, “daddy, where is Sherry, an Lily?”

“Sherlock has gone out… with Lily.” John couldn’t tell her Lily was missing, could he? “They’ve gone out with your uncle Mycroft and gran.”

He brought her out to the kitchen after a ten-count of ‘Monkeys Jumping On The Bed’, made her breakfast and had her dressed. He left her with Mrs Hudson while he took a quick shower. 

Just as he was making his way down to pick Rosie up, a loud tyre screech could be heard outside on Baker Street. What followed was Sherlock, Mycroft and Greg, surrounded by a group of suits, marching up into two two one b.

John sat in his chair with Rosie while the rest of them hustled around, setting up equipments. When the suits finally left the flat, Sherlock stood still in front of John and Rosie.

“Hello little bee,” Sherlock ruffled Rosie’s hair, kneeling down to kiss her forehead. “We should tell her,” he added while raising his eyes to look at John. “It’s been twelve hours. She would figure it out eventually with all this happening around her… She has a right to know.” He stood up stiffly, tried his best to push aside his emotions, thoughts of his younger self being left in the dark over important things, and how he had hated it.

John saw the cringe on his lover’s face, and nodded reluctantly. He turned Rosie around on his lap to face him, taking her small hands in his.

“Rosie, we have a very important task to do now, including you.” His voice broke as he thought about how to phrase it to Rosie. He hugged her and tears started to fall silently.

Sherlock’s heart broke as he saw the scene in front of him. Gently, he pried John’s hands away from Rosies, and picked her up, carrying her to the other side of the room. 

“Rosie, Lily is…”  _ How to let her know without scaring her…  _ “hiding somewhere and we have to find her.” He said as he pointed to the map on the wall, with a red thread pinned along Molly’s route.

“Like hide and seek, Sherry?”

“Yes, like hide and seek.” His lips curved up in a smile, though his eyes were full of sorrow.

John gave his face a perfunctory wipe and stood to join them. He had one arm wrapped around Sherlock’s waist, the other reach up to hold Rosie’s hand.

  
  


“It’s my fault, John.” Sherlock whispered when he placed Rosie down to join Greg in the kitchen. “I should have kept an eye on her instead of…”

“Hey, it’s not your fault, or any of ours love. If anyone was to blame, it’s me, yeah? I begged you to let Molly be a part of Lily’s life, but now… You were right, she isn’t suitable to be in Lily’s life… Not yet, or ever now…”

“No John, it’s all my fault.” Sherlock sank into the sofa, pulling John down to sit with him. “I’ve grown too fond of her to lose her now.” It was rare for Sherlock to open up about what he really felt, John knew to be there when he did, just to listen and let him speak.

“We are both her father. It is our job for it to be our fault, and our duty to protect her.” John gave his lover’s hand a tight squeeze, as he stood, “but now is not the time to linger. We need to find our daughter.”

_ Our daughter,  _ Sherlock smiled slightly.


	25. Chapter 25

Another four hours flew by, Sherlock and Mycroft both stumped by Molly’s whereabouts. She hadn’t been back at her flat, Bart’s or attempted to contact anyone.

A sharp buzz of Mycroft’s phone on the table snapped everyone’s attention towards it, he answered it on speakerphone. It was Anthea.

“Sir, we may have found her.”

“May have? What makes it unclear if you have or not?”

“We have just received a report on an authorised visit to Sherrinford…”

“And?” Sherlock yelled into the phone, attempting to hurry her along.

“Hush, Sherlock.” Mycroft rebutted, “as you were saying, Anthea”

“It was with your authorisation, sir. A lady about thirty five and a toddler. For Eurus Holmes.” She finished reporting without a sliver of emotion.

Mycroft checked his pockets, closing his eyes, he let out a deep heavy sight.

“We need to go there, now.”

“Your car is waiting downstairs, sir.” His assistant said.

“Thank you.”

 

As they stood outside the flat next to Mycroft’s car, waiting for John to settle Rosie down with Mrs Hudson, Sherlock couldn’t hold himself back any longer.

“Did you have anything to do with this?” He snapped, not able to look at his older sibling.

“Sherlock… I did not plan this, if that is what you are implying... Besides, John was the one who invited Miss Hooper...”

“Do not put this on John, it’s your pass she got hold of.”  _ Was she ever in touch with Eurus?  _ Sherlock’s eyes burned into Mycroft’s, channelling hope and despair at the same time. His stomach dropped when Mycroft refused to meet his gaze, avoiding it.

_ I’m sorry, brother mine. _


	26. Chapter 26

Molly stood, holding the still crying child in her arms, unsure of what she was meant to do, or what was going to happen now. Eurus still had towards Molly and the child. Alone, in the empty chamber which was Eurus’s home, Lily’s cries echoed through and through.

“Erm…” She hesitated, “hello Eurus…” Molly still stood three feet away from the glass panel as Eurus turned around and inched closer, and closer, until her breath started to fog the glass between them. The youngest Holmes pointed her index finger and curled it back and forth, beckoning Molly to come nearer.

Molly slowly obeyed, but still allowed herself to keep an arm’s length away from the bulletproof panel. Eurus unexpectedly shifted to Molly’s left where a small chamber opened. Eurus looked to Molly, the infant and the chamber. The mother slowly carried her crying baby girl to the chamber, closing her eyes. She knew everyone would be, if not already were, royally pissed at her, but there was something alluring about Eurus’ eyes. Something convincing…

In what felt like fleeting moments, she found herself curled at the far corner, away from the small chamber, and Rachel was in Eurus’ arms, on the other side of the glass panel separating them from the world.

“Rachel… oh, no…” Molly hugged her own knees in the corner and cried into her own arms, “what have I done?”


	27. Chapter 27

“Report.” Mycroft spat as they met with his team in Sherrinford, Anthea leading the group into an office. Since the last time John had been there, Sherrinford had been restructured, both the building and the team.

“Communication systems are now off the grid, anything above ground runs separately. Teams rotate every day, items are delivered to units robotically. No human contact,” Mycroft paused and glanced at Anthea for reassurance, continued when she gave him a slight nod, “except with my authorisation.”

“You mean you actually have meal-delivering robots in this place? How  _ impressive _ .” John responded sarcastically. “Doesn’t seem to stop your sister from wreaking havoc, again.”

“Sir, we have no visuals in the secure unit to cut off all contact, but we can tell from heat signatures that there are three people.” Anthea stopped to switch on the screen, “apparently two of them are in the box.”

“For all your sakes, I hope that’s Molly in there with Lily.” John grunted as he pushed past the guards at the door, only to stop when Sherlock reached out and held his wrist.

“John, you must remain calm... If this is one of her games, Eurus wouldn’t be huddled in the corner like a child.” Sherlock pointed at the screen with his free hand. “Seems like Lily  **is** in there with Eurus.”

“Oh for god’s sakes!” He turned to face the eldest Holmes, “if a hair on her head is harmed by your sister, and I mean any single hair, you will regret it, Mycroft.” The anger in his voice pulsing through the room, Sherlock feeling his pulse spike as he held his wrist. “No one will be leaving this place alive. I will break every fucking bone, in every piece of shit you have in this place, Mycroft Holmes, and I will make you watch, before it’s your turn.” John’s nostrils were still flaring when Anthea motioned for them to follow her. 

As they pile into the elevator, Sherlock held onto John’s arm as if for dear life. They shared a look and Sherlock mouthed “take a deep breath” to John before taking one himself. “We need to stay calm, John.” His eyes, however, told John that he was as anxious, if not more anxious, than John.

“Alright. We’re alright Lock.” John shook Sherlock’s hand loose only to thread his fingers with his lover’s.

The elevator door could not have opened quicker, as soon as there was enough space, Sherlock raced out, and towards the glass which separated them from Eurus. His sister held his daughter close, eyes locked on the infant as she gently rocked the quiet child

“Why, Eurus?” Sherlock threw his fist, connecting it firmly with the bulletproof glass. “Lily is not yours, she is mine, give her to me now!”

Behind them, Anthea silently escorted Molly into the elevator, pressing a button the doors closed. The woman was clearly distressed and lost, in no state to berated by either the Holmes brothers, or John.

Eurus walked back and forth, caressing the little girl's cheek, humming a tune that sent bone deep chills down everyone’s spine. The tune that had almost killed John in the well. The tune that killed Sherlock’s childhood friend… It was something no one in the room wanted to hear again. 

Realising his demand made little impact on her, Sherlock softened his tone, his heart aching as he was so close to his girl, yet couldn’t get to her without his sisters compliance.

“Stop this, please... Eurus, I know you can hear me… Please, give me back my little girl.” He begged, trying to stop the tears which threatened to run anew. 

In that instance, Eurus spun around with a child. To the three mens surprise, little Lily seemed far from fazed, if anything she was content being held by this woman who was a stranger to her. She lifted her head to face them, a loud, happy screech through the speakers made John jump in surprise. He was glad to see Lily smiling and alive, but her being in Eurus’ arms threw fear into the mix of conflicting emotions he felt.

“Lily.” The youngest Holmes’ voice cracked.

All three men stood very, very still. Having not heard her voice for the longest time, John especially, they were not thrilled that she had broke her silence to say Lily’s name. It was in this moment, Sherlock allowed his tears to fall.

 

John, being outside of the Holmes’ telepathy network, began soothing Sherlock in hushed tones. He looked behind when he heard a loud sniff, only to find Mycroft’s eyes red with tears threatening to fall.

“One of you need to snap out of it and tell me what’s going on before I…” Sherlock’s arms wrapped around John’s torso stopped him out of his violent thoughts.

“John. She’s acknowledging Lily. It’s alright… She won’t hurt our girl...” He released John and held the doctor’s face in his hands, eyes locked on his “she… She knows Lily is family, her family.”

Lily was throwing herself out of Eurus’ arms towards John and Sherlock when the Holmes sister walked towards the chamber. She carefully put her down, kissing her forehead before stepping back. She locked eyes with her nieces fathers, before pressing the button on the wall, sealing the chamber on her side, the door on the men's side unlocking. The sisters eyes were deep, dark and sadly hollow. Eurus went back into her own mind once she had pushed that button, back into her solitude.

John rushed into the chamber, picking up Lily, he pressed the infant close to his chest, tears of relief rolling as he was once again hit with her feel, smell and sounds. Sherlock looked to his sister bowing his head slightly.

“Thank you, Eurus.” She shrugged, walking to the back of her cell.

“Oh Lil…” John carried her out, towards Sherlock, who carefully wrapped his arm around John, looking down at Lily. “I am so glad you’re safe…” Sherlock leaned down, kissing her hair, forehead, hands and feet, before leaning into his lover

“I’m sorry John. I’m so sorry.” Sherlock whispered into John’s shoulder, pinning Lily in between them.

“Papa. Can’t  _ breaff _ .”

John and Sherlock looked at each other, parting as they stared at the little girl, the doctor’s mouth open wide in disbelief. He looked up at Sherlock again,

“Did she just…” Sherlock nodded, grinning, near bursting with pride at his little lady.

“That’s my girl!” His hands gripped John’s biceps, giggling slightly with glee. Lily watched the two, brow raised.

“Surprise, daddy!” Lily said with her arms threw around Sherlock’s neck, holding on for dear life both fathers laughter shook them and the child.

“Definitely yours.” John said as he wiped his joyful tears on Lily’s blouse.

“Told you there was nothing to worry about...” Sherlock smirked, nodding towards Mycroft.

“I hate to break the reunion, but I… We must speak,.” Mycroft said, as he led the reunited family into the elevator.


	28. Chapter 28

Back home in Baker Street, John sat on the sofa with Rosie’s head on his lap sleeping, and Lily cradled against his chest. Sherlock sat in his chair, with Mycroft in John’s, having a silent conversation before they both turned to face Sherlock’s lover.

“John, I think it is sufficient to say that we both fu--” Mycroft stopped mid-word as John’s eyebrow raised, caught him almost swearing in front of the children, albeit asleep. He cleared his throat and tried again. “We both had to make an extremely difficult decision, and I have proceeded to mess things up, royally. And believe me, I cannot be any more sorry than I am right now.”

“What happened? Why did Eurus want or even know about Lily?” He asked the brothers.

Mycroft took a deep breath, Sherlock turned to him, nodding.

“I believe, from what Sherlock and I have discussed, it would be fair to say it began… Eighteen months ago.” He rose to his feet, hands folded behind his back. “I had been given a task by the Prime Minister… And was… Well, I had yet to get results…”

 

As Mycroft stepped out of his car onto Downing Street, his heart rate picked up significantly. Anxiety was not something he experience on a daily basis, and he intended to keep it that way. However, in the recent turn of events, he found himself caught in the middle a problem he had been, so far, unable to solve.

_ I will solve it, I don’t need to ask for his help. I am the smarter one, _ he thought to himself, as he made his way inside the building. 

He was led up to where the meeting was taking place, opening the door, he stepped in before closing it again behind him.

“Ah, here you are. Sit down, Holmes.”

Mycroft raised an eyebrow at how the Prime Minister addressed him. Normally it was ‘Mister Holmes’, or by his first name. He stood even taller than he had, while leaning against his umbrella.

“I shall remain standing,” Mycroft said sharply. “It would seem that you are expecting the problem solved, but I am afraid this is not the case, at the moment.” Suddenly, he found his primly manicured nails very interesting.

“You avoid eye contact and contractions when something is wrong, Holmes.”

Mycroft nodded, and still avoiding eye contact with the PM. He walked towards the window, and looked out into the city while his back burned by the other’s stares.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself on his trusted umbrella. “I will see that the issue is neutralised,” turning, he looked straight at the PM, wondering if he should just walk away, but his lips moved before his brain caught up. “Whatever it takes.”


	29. Chapter 29

“To what do I owe the pleasure, brother dear?” Sherlock sneered into the phone as he bounced Rosie on his lap, the infant giggling happily, clinging to his trouser leg.

“Sherlock, I need your help…” Mycroft slurred. “Please.”

“Hang on,” Sherlock waved for John to take Rosie into her room, mouthing ‘Mycroft is drunk’. His lover nodded, before taking their little one up to her room. Once alone, Sherlock held the phone back onto his face, “Mycroft. Do not go anywhere. I’ll be there soon.” He hung up as soon as he heard Mycroft grunt in acknowledgement.

“What’s going on?” John asked over the baby monitor.

**Baby monitors works one-way, John. -SH**

**Need to see Mycroft now. Will be late. -SH**

**Call me if you need anything. Be safe. Love you. -JW**

When Sherlock saw John’s message, he was already in one of Mycroft’s car, on the way to Kensington with Anthea,  _ or whatever her name is today. _

**Kiss Rosie goodnight for me tonight. Lullaby recorded in a tape in the violin case. -SH**

**Love you too, John. Very much. -SH**

This was going to be a long night.

 

John laughed slightly, nodding.

“I remember that… I was curious of what had driven you to drink, Sherlock never told me much…”

“I didn’t see the relevance of it… Only that it was annoying and inconvenient…”

“Inconvenient?” Mycroft repeated.

“If you had contacted me in the first place, we may have found a solution sooner, without having to spend so much  _ quality _ time together.”

 

Sherlock recalled how disappointed he was to not be at home with John and Rosie the next morning. He had expected it to be an eight, possibly nine. Nothing three patch and twelve hours wouldn’t solve. As ever, at least when it came to his brother, Sherlock was wrong by miles. Although it had started as a long day, it soon evolved into a long week. 

He had not been home since the day he found Mycroft blacked out in his office. The initial fear he felt when he saw Mycroft motionless was something he intended to prevent experiencing again. 

Keeping the older Holmes sober was easy, solving the problem which had caused him to drink a whole bottle of whisky… that was a hurdle they found impossible to overcome.

“I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are.” Sherlock frowned as he read Mycroft’s body language, on the eighth day. It was driven by desperation, but clear reluctance. There was only one possible solution that would cause him to react that way.

Eurus Holmes.

“What other choice do we have?”

_ I don’t suppose we do.  _ Mycroft nodded, seemingly reading his mind.


	30. Chapter 30

The next morning, the brothers were reunited with Eurus. As soon as she locked eyes with her older siblings, it was as if she had been touched by God. Her eyes brightened up, with a gentle smile on her lips. The slight tilt of her head told the brothers that she was interested in their problem.

She sat down with her legs crossed, one foot away from the glass that separated them, hands clasped together, elbows on her knees and her chin steadied on her hands, eyes flicking from one brother to the next and back again - waiting for her brothers to present their problem to her.

Mycroft and Sherlock each pulled a chair from the side of the room, and sat in front of her, a total distance of four feet between them. As Mycroft began explaining, both brothers noticed she would roll her eyes and twitch her left feet occasionally. Halfway through the explanation, Sherlock picked up on the pattern.

“I’ve got it, Mycroft.” As Sherlock stood to leave, a voice they never expected to hear echoed through the speakers.

“Brilliant.”

The brothers could only stare at each other at the sound of Eurus’ voice. Neither knowing that it was one of four words Eurus would ever say again in her lifetime. 

 

The moment they returned to Mycroft’s home office, it took five minutes for Sherlock to explain what Eurus was hinting at, and another day for them to decipher the coded letter.

“It was in the names of the operatives, the location coordinates, and the song that was playing on the radio when they were killed. Each letter has a different cipher… Mycroft, I believe we may have found our match.”

“Indeed. Disturbingly so. And worse that this individual is against us.”

“But we still don’t have the cipher to the letter with the name.”

_ And we may never, but we have done our part. It is out of our hands now. _


	31. Chapter 31

“I believe we have to thank both Mister Holmes’ here for solving it.” The PM opened during an internal debriefing, motioning his hands to both Mycroft and Sherlock on his right.

“We’ve cracked the cipher, and now it will be handed back to Intelligence to decrypt the rest. My assistant will hand over all documents related to Operation MINT back to you by this evening, M. Good luck.”

As Mycroft sat down, he gave Sherlock a light nod, showing his appreciation, but his eyes betrayed him. They both knew what they did for Queen and Country came with a price, an unknown price that was not negotiated with their baby sister.

 

“I never wish to spend so long with just you, brother dear, again…”

“I couldn’t agree more, it was just like childhood…”

“Exactly,” at this John rolled his eyes, though smiled softly to himself, recalling Sherlock’s return.

 

Sherlock had been away from home for ten days, and it was ten days too many. He felt a flutter in his stomach as the car turned into Baker Street. As soon as the car was slow enough to hop off, he flung the door wide open and ran off into his home, where the two he loved most are waiting for him.

“John! I’m home!” He shouted at the top of his lungs. Immediately, he heard Rosie scream and a set of footsteps running towards the door.  _ Too light to be John, must be Rosie. Is she running already?  _ He thought as he climbed the stairs two by two, not paying attention to what was in front of him.

The door to the flat flew open, and in a hurry to reach Rosie, he tripped and fell face first into the flat. He grunted while turning his face to the side, only to come in contact with a pair of tiny feet bundled in a pair of cotton bees.

“Oh lord, Sherlock. Did you not see the baby gate?” John tutted as he grabbed Sherlock’s arm and helped him up. “Rosie is running around, can’t have her running down the stairs now, can we?” He smiled and brushed Sherlock’s coat, paused for awhile when his hands were at his chest, and leaned in, wrapping his arms around his lover’s torso.

“I missed you so much, Sher. You have no idea…”

“I missed you too.” Sherlock said belatedly, ears and eyes open to his home, the sound of the kettle boiling, Rosie running around the flat, sounds of Mrs Hudson’s telly muffled by walls, and the whispers of John’s breath.

“Tea?” John asked as he released Sherlock, “go take a bath while I make dinner. You smell.” His face wrinkled dramatically and gently he pushed Sherlock towards the bathroom.

“Sherry!” Rosie called out as she ran towards Sherlock. “Sherry, hugs!” She lifted her hands towards Sherlock and he lifted her up, giving her a tight hug before she groaned, “ew smelly.”

“Then let me take a shower and I’ll come hug you and daddy until you’ve had enough, alright love?” Sherlock gently placed her down and gave her a kiss to her forehead. She nodded and ran back into the kitchen to rejoin John.

 

“How fortunate you were, Sherlock, to have a family worth returning to… However, some of us have to continue working…”

“Making deals with psychopaths, you mean,” Sherlock mused, shaking his head

 

While Sherlock reunited with his family across town, Mycroft was on a helicopter on his way back to Sherrinford. The puzzle was solved, but the question remains - what does Eurus want?

The click tap of his shoes and umbrella notified Eurus of Mycroft’s arrival. She turned around carrying a slight frown on her face and looked to his left where Sherlock was standing last.

“Just me, little sister. Now, we are aware that we owe you a gift for helping us.” Mycroft gritted his teeth, the memories of the last incident in this room threatening to overwhelm his mind.

“Molly.” She said.

“Molly? Why would you…” he paused, recalling how Eurus had threatened Sherlock with her life.  _ Perhaps she thinks Molly was still a significant part of Sherlock’s life… is she still not done with her games?  _ Mycroft calmly stepped back and nodded, “you never have a reason anyway. Five minutes, supervised, with me.”

Eurus nodded without skipping a beat, before turning to face the wall.

_ Odd,  _ he thought, _ that she did not negotiate _ ...  _ but then, Eurus never was one to be predictable _ .

 

“And… You never asked why she wanted Molly?” John questioned, walking back into the room, having put the girls to bed.

“It would have been pointless, John, Eurus is not one to allow herself to be transparent…”


	32. Chapter 32

Molly was five months pregnant. She hadn’t told anyone, but her baby bump was getting harder to hide. With Sherlock and John together in London, she decided that it would be better to move back in with her parents’ in Clovelly. She wouldn’t be able to leave until the end of next month, but being alone meant she had to pack everything on her own, and her pregnancy was not making it any easier, threatening to upturn her stomach every fifteen minutes.

While she stacked her books into a box, she heard three sharp raps on her door. Dropping the books on the counter, she opened the door without releasing the latch.

“Good evening Miss Hooper,” Mycroft stood at the door and nodded towards her slightly, “may I come in?”

“Oh, sure.” She closed the door to release the latch and reopened it again, this time motioned for Mycroft to come in. “Why are you here, Mister Holmes?” She said walking back to where she'd put the books.

“I have a small favour to ask.”

“If it has anything to do with Sherlock, my answer is no.” She said, not looking up.

“It has nothing to do with Sherlock directly.” He wasn’t technically lying. It had nothing to do with his brother himself.. _. _ “I will need you to come with me tomorrow and meet someone. Just for five minutes. I will be right next to you at all times.”

“And who am I meeting?” Molly was now breathing heavily, angry at Mycroft’s secretive behaviour that reminded her of Sherlock. When Mycroft made no indication of answering her question, she understood. “You can’t tell me, can you?” He only smiled, his usual one, which made Molly feel ill at ease when she saw it.

“Miss Hooper, I assure you--”

“No need to coddle me, Mycroft Holmes. You know very well what your brother did to me.” She knew what she meant, but knew Mycroft would think she meant the call Sherlock had made while they were trapped in Sherrinford.

“As much as I wish to, I am unable to apologise on behalf of my brother.” Mycroft took two steps backwards towards the door and tapped his umbrella on the floor twice. “So will you come with me?”

A silent minute passed, and a loud sigh broke the tension in the room. “Yes, I’ll go. Just...  Promise me he won’t be there.” Her eyes stung with tears and she squeezed them shut.

“I promise. Have a good night Miss Hooper,  I will be here at eight in the morning.”

Molly heard the door click shut and she opened her eyes. Her books still on the counter, door unlatched and the remnants of Mycroft’s cologne lingered in her living room.

“What have I gotten myself into?” She whispered to herself as she slid down against her kitchen counter onto the floor, and cried against her knees until she fell asleep from exhaustion.

 

“Five months along? And you couldn’t tell? Your standards are slipping, brother…”

“I agree, I should have picked up on it. However, she did intentionally hide the signs. You did spend more time around Miss Hooper, may I ask how you missed it?”

“Why would I notice changes like  _ that _ in Molly?”

“You spotted them in Mary…” John muttered, earning a disapproving look from his lover.

“Have to wonder, why did Molly agree to it? She had hardly any reason to trust Eurus…”

“She wasn’t you, brother mine, therefore was worth meeting. I believe that may be her reasoning.”

 

Five minutes was an overkill. Five seconds was all it took for Eurus to figure out Molly’s entire life story up to the point where she stood.

“Who is she?” Molly asked when they stood three feet away from the glass panel.

“My sister, Eurus. She’s the youngest Holmes.” Mycroft pinched his lips in a straight, thin line. Although he had agreed to it, he still felt uneasy having a normal person, like Molly, around his sister.

“Why would you want me to meet her?” She asked, turning to face Eurus.

“You have it the other way around, Miss Hooper. She wanted to meet you.”

Molly could only wonder why. If Mycroft had kept this a secret from her prior to their meeting, she was certain that there was nothing more he could tell her.

“She won’t tell you anything,” Mycroft said as he deduced Molly’s train of thought.

Eurus, as always, did something Mycroft had not expected.

“Baby.” She said in a loud whisper just as Mycroft and Molly were leaving.

“What did you say?” Molly asked, turning to face her again, only to be met with Eurus’ back and eerie silence.

“Baby.” Mycroft repeated after Eurus.  _ She is pregnant… How did I not see the signs? Oh brother of mine, what have you done? _


	33. Chapter 33

A little over a month after Molly had been in Sherrinford, she had the last of her belongings packed in boxes, waiting for the movers to arrive at noon. There was still time before she had to go for her train that evening, so she had decided to go down to the Yard to say her goodbyes. Ultimately she did enjoy working with Dimmock and Lestrade… Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be a problem staying in London?

Walking into the building, a few uniformed officers recognised her and pulled her towards the cafeteria for a quick chat. While they surrounded her and pleaded for her to stay, her heart swayed. She was very close to deciding to stay when she heard a familiar voice, followed by a laugh she had never heard before.

“John, stop it.” Sherlock said, followed by a chuckle. When he turned around and saw John stifling a laugh, they both suddenly burst out into laughter.

“That was amazing love. Did you see the look on Dimmock’s face?”

“When you told him how you finally bent me over the couch and had me six ways to Sunday?” Sherlock laughed out loud again when John nodded enthusiastically, “priceless. I wish I had a camera…”

“You have a camera on your phone!”

“I wish I had it ready then. It would’ve been great blackmail material.”

As John and Sherlock continued to bicker their way out of the Met, Molly stayed hidden within the group of officers. She felt a painful twinge in her stomach and numbness shot through her arms. She didn’t realise she was crying until the officers around her handed her some tissues.

“Sorry, just going to miss everyone here.” She brushed it off without saying more. In that moment, there was no doubt. She had to leave London.

Alone in the elevator, she was able to breathe and compose herself. As the doors opened, she steeled herself and made a beeline towards Greg’s office.

“Molly!” He stood up and walked around his table over to her, giving her a big hug. “You know we’re all going to miss you. Did you see Sherlock and John on the way in? They just left a couple minutes ago…”

At the mention of Sherlock’s name, Molly couldn’t hold back her tears. She dropped onto the couch and buried her face in her hands. Greg quickly closed his office door and sat next to her, one arm draped over her shoulders. She turned her face into Greg’s shoulder and he felt her tears spreading on his shirt, hot against his skin.

“Shh… it’s alright Mol. Just let it out. I’m here.” Greg whispered as Molly cried silently, her body shuddering violently.

“I… I can’t,” Molly sniffed and took a few deep breaths, “I can’t see them…”

“Shit. You really had it deep for that moron?” Everyone knew Molly had a crush on Sherlock, just no one knew she was in love with him. Now Lestrade knew.

“I have to go… My train’s leaving in a couple hours.” She quickly dried her eyes with the sleeves of her sweater and straightened herself up.

“Let me take you back,” Greg offered, and added “please,” when Molly looked like she was going to refuse. She could never say no when Greg used those puppy eyes against her.

As Greg drove closer to Molly’s flat, she noticed it was a different mover, and there were two black tinted cars at the door. To neither of their surprise, they walked up to find Mycroft leaning against her door.

“Miss Hooper, Detective Inspector.” Mycroft greeted with a nod.

“What’s going on?” Molly yelled the same time she stormed into her flat. “Who are these people and what are they doing with my things?”

“I’ve arranged for them to take your things back to your parents’. They’re a more reliable mover, and they will restore your belongings exactly as they were arranged when they have arrived. As for you, I’ve arranged for one of my drivers to escort you... More comfortable in a limo than a three hour train ride.”

“You could’ve asked her first, you know?” Greg chimed in after Mycroft paused, earning him a glare so cold, he fell silent.

“It’s alright Greg. I’ll be alright. I’m too exhausted to redo all these anyway.” She sighed and slumped into the sofa she was leaving behind for her flats next tenant, “but don’t expect me to thank you, Mycroft.”

“I owe you more than this, Miss Hooper. This is the least I can do for now. I shall keep in touch.” Mycroft quickly brushed past Greg and left.

“Sure you’re alright? I have to go back to work but...” Greg asked as he walked over to Molly and sat across from her.

“Yeah. Thank you, Greg. For everything.”

“Don't be silly, Mol. Keep in touch, yeah? The guys at the Yard are planning a fishing trip to Clovelly already. We will come visit you soon.” He gave her a quick peck on her cheek, before he turned to leave.

“Greg,” he turned around and saw her hands covering her stomach, “I’m pregnant.” He stood at the door, eyes wide when she dropped the bigger bomb. “It’s Sherlock’s.”

 

At this point in the recollection, John hung his head, shaking it slightly.

“I never thought… We were so…”

“Excited? Happy?” Sherlock offered, looking at his lover, adoration in his eyes.

“Yeah, but… Poor Molly…” John frowned and felt sorry for her while Sherlock scoffed at his reaction.

“You were not the only one to think so, John, Inspector Lestrade did also.”


	34. Chapter 34

“What do you mean he cannot know? Are you serious right now? What kind of brother are you?” Greg yelled at the top of his lungs across the solid oak table where Mycroft sat. “How dare you. Is this how you treat a woman? I thought your brother is the irresponsible child, but you… YOU are the source of his behavioural problems!”

“Gregory, please.” Mycroft looked at Greg, eyes soft and silently pleading.

“Don’t you dare. You can’t look at me like that every time he fucks things up.” He carded all ten of his fingers through his greying hair and sighed. “This isn’t like Baskerville, Mycroft. You can’t expect us to just show up and ask her to give it up. That’s just… cruel.”

“I know, but what other choice do we have?”

“There is no  _ we _ in this.” Greg was getting agitated with Mycroft and bit every word sharply. His nose flared and huffed. But when he turned around and caught Mycroft’s eyes in his, his blood pressure seemed to ease, and heart rate slowing down.

“Please.”

Greg hated it when Mycroft pleaded, there is something in the man’s eyes that he just couldn’t seem to deny.

Two hours later, he sat next to Mycroft in a sleek sedan on their way to Clovelly.

 

It had been a month since Molly left London. The quiet harbour town had been good for her, both mentally and physically. Walking down the cobbled main street, she stared far off over the Bristol Channel, overlooking the car parked few feet down the steep road.

“Molly!” Greg called out when she walked straight by him. He saw that she no longer wore the oversized jumpers that she used to in London. Instead, she had a bright yellow dress, proudly showing off her baby bump, and a light grey cardigan over her shoulders.

“Oh, Greg!” She yelped in happy surprise, until she saw the other person sitting across Greg.

“We came to see you.” Greg said as he pulled out the chair next to him and waved for her to sit down.

As they discussed the future of the child, Molly stood her ground. She refused for the child to take the Holmes’ name, and to give the child up. Of course, Mycroft being Mycroft, he had Molly’s most recent psychiatric evaluations, and it all pointed to her heading towards an emotional downward spiral.

Of course, she knew better herself that she had no means of raising the child on her own. Back here in Clovelly, her parents were living quite comfortably, but nothing spared to raise a child.

Greg held her hand, remaining silent during the entire conversation. Mycroft had offered to give her an opportunity to be a part of the child’s life, while they were in the care of Sherlock and John. She made him promise to not tell Sherlock until she has decided.

The only reason she wanted to keep the baby was to have a part of Sherlock with her, although she knew that even if he knew, he wouldn’t ever love her the way he loved John.

 

“So… You basically stalked and spied on Molly?” John asked, shaking his head slightly, smirking, “have you always been invasive or was it a later development?” He asked, making Sherlock smirk.

“I wanted to ensure my niece. I didn’t believe that Miss Hooper was suited to be a single mother, not when she’s not over my brother dearest here.” Mycroft explained while fiddling with the umbrella handle. “Also I had every reason to believe that the child would inherit Sherlock’s features, which may have proven to be too difficult for her to bear…”


	35. Chapter 35

Molly gave birth to a baby girl prematurely at eight months in her parent’s house, the exact same bed where she had been born. Her mother was ecstatic to finally have a granddaughter. However, as soon as Molly recovered and the baby was strong enough, she decided to move back to London.

On the train, she held the baby girl in her arms, wondering if she would ever grow up to know her father… if her father would ever know she exists.

“Mommy will always be here for you, Rachel.”

 

“Rachel?” John asked, “she… She already had a name?”

“Yes, however I do believe that the child had yet to recognise it as her name, besides… Lily suits her better…” He looked to his brother, who sat with his head hanging, eyes closed tight. 

Sherlock knew what was coming, and was deciding how to proceed.

 

Rachel Hooper was five months old when Molly moved back to London. Molly had gone back to work at the morgue, and hired a nanny to take care of Rachel. Every night, as she looked at Rachel’s mop of raven curls, she was reminded of the night she had with Sherlock. Echoes of his voice calling John’s name ringing in her head. The sound of Rachel’s cries in the middle of the night… it was all too much.

At the last day of her third week back in London, she has had enough. She held her crying infant in her arms, sat on the sofa of her cold flat, rocking herself and Rachel gently, back and forth, back and forth…

Rachel kept crying, and so did Molly. 

“Oh, Rachel. Stop crying, please. Mummy’s so tired… I’m so tired of living like this.”

Rachel cried even louder.

“I’m done…”


	36. Chapter 36

“I think you should… Go, Mycroft…” Sherlock said, earning a bemused look from his lover. Mycroft however rose to his feet, nodding. 

“It is getting late, you do have two little ones… Goodnight, Sherlock, John…” He said, picking up his umbrella as he made his way towards and out the door, stepping over the baby gate he walked down and out of the building.

John looked to his lover, brow creased with concern.

“I’ll go check on the girls, I’ll be down soon…” He said, leaving the room himself, heading up the stairs. 

John watched him go, slumping back in the seat, he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He shook his head slightly,  _ they probably feel guilty over today...  _ He sighed, smiling softly, relieved that little Lily was back home, safe in their arms.

 

He opened his eyes, looking down he saw a blanket had been wrapped around him, and that he was now laying on his side. He smiled softly, stroking the edges slightly.

“That goof…” He said softly, before hearing soft sobs coming from their room. 

He slowly rose to his feet, walking towards it, he eased the door open. Inside he saw Sherlock, sat up, back resting against the headboard, Lily fast sleep in his arms. Tears were rolling down his cheeks as he watched his little lady sleep.

“Sher?” John asked softly. This wasn’t the first time he had found him, crying silently over their youngest, but whenever he had he left him be. The next day when he asked him about it, Sherlock denied or brushed it off.

His lover looked up, locking eyes with him.

“I nearly lost her, John, again…”

“Hey…” He walked over to him, sitting beside him on the bed, “but you didn’t, she’s home and safe…” His last word landed, “what do you mean again?”

“Molly… Before we got our girl, she… Molly…” He closed his eyes tight, trying to compose his tired and distraught mind.

“What did Molly do, Sher?” He asked, putting his hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“Before we got Lily… The reason we got Lily…”

“Start from the top, it may make it easier…”

“I doubt it,” he scoffed, “Mycroft told me, not long after our realisation of who her mother was, why Molly had relented to give us Lily…”

“Is this what Mycroft was going to tell me tonight?” Sherlock nodded, “alright… take your time, I’m here, Lily’s here, we’re with you…”

Sherlock nodded, taking a deep breath.

 

A week before Lily had been left on their doorstep, Mycroft had received a concerning call from Anthea.

“Sir, there are some unusual activity in Miss Hooper’s flat. Could be a code red.”

“Call DI Lestrade. And tell him I’m on my way.”

Greg got to Molly’s flat right on time. He pounded on the door for at least a minute, when there was no answer, he broke it down. Storming into every room, he found Molly in the bathtub with the baby. It was so hot in the room, he could barely breathe. 

First thing he did was to pull the baby out of her arms, check she was still alive, that he hadn’t been too late

“Come on, curly, you can’t do this to me, no matter who your dad is…” He muttered. The baby was still breathing, but her pulse was weak, relief rushing over him.

At the same moment, Mycroft came running into the building, with the paramedics right behind him. Greg stepped out of the room, spotting them.

“She’s in the bathroom. Last door on the left.” Greg yelled out to the paramedics. One of them split away from the team and came towards him, prying his hands away from the baby.

“Let me take a look at her.” The medic quickly placed an oxygen mask over Rachel’s face and ordered Mycroft, “get a piece of cloth and run it through the cold tap. Hurry, the baby’s overheating.”

Greg automatically got to his feet and grabbed the nearest book, tore a few pages off and started fanning the baby from above.

 

A few minutes later, Molly was carried out of her bathroom in a stretcher, headed into the ambulance.

“Someone has to come with the baby. Are either of you the father?” The paramedic asked.

“I’m her uncle. I’ll come with.” Mycroft offered, and Greg nodded to confirm.

“I’m right behind you Myc.” He gave Mycroft a gentle rub on the back, knowing that this was not how he wanted things to turn out.

As Greg waited for them to be taken away, he wondered how Mycroft knew this was going to happen. He may have been thinking out loud, because Mycroft turned around and mouthed silently, 

“I bugged her flat,” before he turned around and got into the ambulance.

This was the only time Greg was glad that Mycroft illegally bugged someone’s flat.


	37. Chapter 37

John sat silent, watching him, his own tears rolling down his cheek as he looked at the sleeping babe. The thought that she was nearly taken from them broke his heart, the poor girl had been punished for something she had no part in.

“Oh Lil… Poor little Lil…” John whispered against Sherlock’s shoulder, an arm wrapped around his waist from behind, pulling Sherlock closer and rubbing soothing circles on his back. He could tell that his fiancee was having a hard time recalling what had happened, and all the doctor wanted to do was to be there, as Sherlock’s anchor.

“She had overdosed on sleeping pills… Seemingly wanting to drown Lily…” He said with a frown before reaching out to brush a stray curl off Lily’s forehead and smiling slightly, “but my girl is a smart one, kept her little head afloat… But that... Fucking bitch, she had the water so hot…” He kissed her forehead, “Molly was meant to be in hospital for a week on observation, and later charged, but she vanished with Lily two nights in…”

“Sherlock… I had no idea…” 

“I wanted to keep it that way…”

“Oh... You’re really an idiot,” John said lightheartedly.

“The night we got her, Mycroft was watching… Or should I say his people were… If we had been a minute late…”

“It was a cold night, Sher, he just wanted her safe after all she’d been through…”

Sherlock nodded, leaning against John, closing his eyes. “She is never coming here again, Mo…” He stopped himself, that woman didn’t deserve a name, “she will never see our girl… I won’t allow it.”

“Sher… We’ll talk about it tomorrow, rest… I’ll put Lil in her original bed, just for tonight.” He lifted Sherlock’s head by his chin and kissed him lightly on the lips. “Will you sleep?” John whispered against Sherlock’s lips, his hands cradled against Sherlock’s with Lily in them.

Sherlock couldn’t help but grin, nodding as he carefully handed the sleeping babe to his lover.


	38. Chapter 38

Two days later, after ensuring Lily was, seemingly, settled once again, Mycroft and Greg came to two two one b.

“Hey John. You all doing alright?” Greg asked as he stepped over the baby gate, holding onto John’s shoulder for support. Mycroft waited behind and kept his eyes on the locked gate. “Oh for god’s sakes Myc, just pull those pants up a little and climb over!”

“I assure you, that will not happen.” Mycroft responded to Greg, blatantly ignoring his shortened name that slipped out of the DI’s lips. He bent down slowly to unlatch the baby gate, then swiftly closed it back with his umbrella once he was in. Mycroft’s eyes scanned John from head to toe twice. “You are now aware of what happened?” He asked John as Lily played with her sister and their new toys on the floor.

“I do, Sherlock told me later that night… Greg, you knew all this time?” John paused, waiting for a response from Mycroft, only to get a nod from the DI himself.

“Molly told me when she first moved away. We’ve kept an eye on her since.” Greg’s hands were weaved together to stop himself from fidgeting. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her that night John. For that, I am really really sorry.” He glanced at Sherlock to direct his apology that way, but Sherlock seemed to be minding his own experiment in the kitchen.

“Even if you had, I believe she would’ve found another way to take Lily to Eurus. Only thing I don’t get is… Eurus’ role in this whole thing… Why would Molly take Lily to her?” John sat on the edge of his seat, subconsciously leaning closer towards his daughters at the mention of Eurus.

“We may never know, doctor, my sister is as persuasive as she is unpredictable, I am not certain Miss Hooper knows why she took her there, just felt that she must… What is clear, is that in the past two days, all Eurus has… E xpressed, is a certain  _ fondness _ towards Lily… Though, I am using the term fondness sparingly. She has no capacity for emotions, but she had found Lily to be… fascinating. In the most flattering way, in fact. Much like how Sherlock would care for a small speck of rare ash.”

“Wait, hang on,” John shifted slightly in his seat, leaning forwards, brow raised, slightly challenging the older Holmes. “Are you comparing Lily to a speck of ash?”

“He was.” Sherlock mumbled as he decided to join the conversation. He removed his safety goggles and sat in his chair, eyes locked on the children, “and... I suppose that is an accurate comparison. John, I would experiment with that speck of ash, but I would do everything to keep it away from humidity, you flushing it down the sink, or Mrs Hudson’s vacuum.”

“As we will have to do our best to keep Eurus away, and Lily away from our dear sister,” Mycroft stood and straightened his pants, thumbing his phone without breaking eye contact with John.

“What do you mean?” John asked, turning to face the children.

“You saw Lily, John, she seemed just as taken with Eurus, as Eurus was with her… If she is truly my brother’s child, that does not bode well for the future… Well, glad to see everyone alive and kicking. We have to go, Gregory.” Mycroft said with a slight smirk on his face, head turned slightly to see Lestrade.

“Yeah, umm…” Greg hesitated for a short while before he headed for the door. “Would you both like to see Molly soon?” He offered quietly just as he crossed the baby gate and closed it.

“I suppose we have to, eventually.” John replied as he picked up Rosie’s toy that Lily had flung across the room, Sherlock shot him a look which went unseen.

“Whenever you’re ready then. We have her in a mental facility getting some help. I’ll see you guys soon?” John nodded and Greg was halfway down the stairs when he heard Sherlock.

“Lestrade.” Sherlock shouted from their open door and when their eyes met, the consulting detective gave the DI a curt nod, “Greg, thank you.” Walking down behind them.

“You got my name right on your first try. It’s about time!” 

“And  _ Myc _ ? Really?” Sherlock teased as he slammed the door to two two one b shut before Greg could respond.


	39. Chapter 39

Sure as their word, Greg returned to two two one b with news of Molly’s recovery. Sherlock stood at the kitchen table, his latest experiment laid out, with Lily balanced on the chair next to him, watching her father work. 

She had proven to be useful when it came to his experiments, primarily being a soundboard for Sherlock to bounce his theories off of, only receiving giggles, smiles and nods from the little girl, so much so that he had bought her her own goggles.

John sat in Sherlock’s seat, Rosie in his lap, reading to their eldest, his eyes glancing up at the other pair. He didn’t approve of their youngest being so close to the more immediate dangers her father dabbled in, yet knew Sherlock would keep their little lady safe. Greg sat across from the pair originally attempting to amuse the youngest Holmes, only to get annoyed grunts from her, she had not spoken since meeting Eurus.

“John.”

At the sound of Sherlock’s voice calling his name, he tilted down the book covering both his and Rosie’s face to look over into the kitchen. He hummed an acknowledgement only to find Sherlock’s face buried deep into his microscope.

“What started as an experiment, has brought me to the threshold of monumental discovery.” He continued after a minute, ignoring the fact that John had resumed reading to Rosie.

“Hang on,” John closed the book and lifted Rosie into his arms and walked towards Lily. “What’s this… monumental discovery?”

Sherlock hummed a few random tones with his face still stuck to the microscope. “When I hum a chromatic scale, there is no measurable response.”

“You do know that fungus can’t hear you?” Greg quipped.

“Not the fungus, Gavin. Keep up!”

“Right. You both carry on. I’ll put Lily in the bath with Rosie now.”

All the while Sherlock had not even flinched from the microscope, at the mention of taking Lily away, his head snapped up, eyes piercing through John’s.

“No. John. Leave her there.” He pointed back at Lily’s chair. When John had sat her back down, he hummed a different tune that sounded like a song they heard on the telly last week. “Voila! She bounces her feet. She recognises that song.”

“Oh god... Sherlock Holmes!” John sighed while picking Lily up, “you are not experimenting on our daughter!” He stomped with Lily into the bathroom before yelling out, “I need to drop them off at nursery soon!”

For a short moment, it was as if Greg was invisible. The domestic scene happening before his eyes was unbelievable. 

“Hang on, I came to tell you both about Molly.” He started, but when John and Sherlock continued on doing what they were doing, he gave up. “I guess I’ll wait till he’s done from bathing the kids?” He flopped down on Sherlock’s chair and switched on the telly, watching the news.

 

As soon as the bathroom door closed, Sherlock went over and sat across Greg in John’s chair.

“I didn’t want Lily to hear this conversation.”

“She’s too young to understa--”

“No. You’re the one who doesn’t understand. She’s a Holmes… Watson-Holmes.” He corrected himself, “her brain capacity is larger than the whole lot of you at the Yard combined.”

“Wow. That’s really high praise coming from you.” Greg quipped sarcastically.

“Now, tell me, what’s the arrangement for her… When is she out?”

“How did you know she’ll be out? Forget it, of course you knew.”

“And yet, you still ask, after so many years.”

“She’s been there for a week, and psych eval says her mental faculty is sound. No reason for them to keep her. Myc… Mycroft couldn’t do more to keep her in, unfortunately. She’s being released, but I’m picking her up from the facility, and taking her straight down to the Yard. I will have to charge her for the kidnapping of Lily, as well as the erm…” Sherlock nodded, anger flaring in him for a moment, “we won’t need you all to get involved, initially, but eventually we’ll need you and John to come and sign some paperwork, to release her medical records for court and such.”

Sherlock nodded. He had his fingers steepled under his chin, and Greg knew it was time to leave.

 

While John and Rosie were singing Lucky Duck for the sixth time in the bath, Lily watching the two, eyebrow raised. Sherlock appeared at the door, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking at them with a fond smile.

“Everything alright?” John asked.

“Yes John. Lestrade just left…” He pushed aside his thoughts about Molly and came back to his family. “Is nursery really necessary? We’ve been looking after them in turns. Besides, Mrs Hudson is right downstairs, and she loves them.”

“Well, they will need friends, and nursery helps them learn to interact with regular people. Besides, what if a ten rolls through the door while I’m at the clinic?”

“Why would we want that? Regular people are… boring. And mean.” Sherlock’s eyes shied away from John’s as if he was… embarrassed? “I can always drop them downstairs with Hudders before I leave. Or if the crime scene isn’t too gruesome, they can always come with.”

John brushed his fiancee’s reactions aside, focused on getting their daughters out of the bathtub and dried. Instead, he changed the subject swiftly by reminding Sherlock that Mrs Hudson was not their housekeeper, or their children’s nanny.

“She’s more like their gran, don’t you think so? Perhaps we should take her out for a nice dinner next Mother’s Day. Now, get your arse over here and pull Rosie out before she turns into a prune, please.” John was struggling to keep Lily in her towel.

“Stop it Lily. Stay still!” Sherlock barked, getting a disapproving look from John. Since Lily had been taken by Molly, she always trembled and squealed, terrified, whenever someone raised their voice at her. Sherlock sighed, hanging his head, he reached for Lily, who was now highly distressed, holding her close in her towel. 

“If you get dressed I’ll let you do an experiment with me.” He flinched when John shook his head disapprovingly. “Oh John, I have an experiment. Completely safe. She can do some stirring and mixing for me. All the materials are safe to eat.”

Having seen Sherry upset her sister, Rosie she threw the rubber duck in her hand straight towards him, hitting him square on the nose. That made the girls giggle, and seconds later all four of them were roaring out in laughter, echoing in the tiny bathroom.

“What have I ever done to deserve you, John Watson.”

“By being yourself, love. Everything you are deserves this.”


	40. Chapter 40

DI Lestrade found himself standing at the door of Baldock Manor Hospital, two hours after he had left Baker Street. He was a doorbell away from arresting Molly Hooper - his colleague and friend. He reached out to press the bell, his hands shaking. Quickly he shoved his left hand into his jacket pocket and blamed his shivers on the weather.

“Ah, detective inspector. I’ve been told to expect you. Come on in.” A plump lady in a baby blue uniform greeted him at the door.

She led him through a series of rooms before stopping at a door that was labelled ‘Director’. A gentle knock followed by a voice inviting them in had led Greg to be sitting next to Molly on a sofa in the room. An offer of tea was declined. He needed something stronger than tea. Perhaps a neat shot of brandy that Mycroft has kept hidden behind his international law journals.

“Inspector, we just need you to sign these papers and she will be in your custody.” The hospital director said as he handed Greg a file. Apparently the DI had missed most of the conversation, his mind occupied with the events that would follow when Molly arrived at the Yard.

He quickly looked through the documents. Once he found everything was in order, he initialled the pages and signed the last.

 

“What’s going to happen now, Greg?” Molly asked.

Greg quietly opened the passenger side door for Molly and motioned for her to get in, thinking over how his possible answers. He got in the car and started the engine, letting it run idle as he tried to construct sentences in response to Molly’s question.

“I have to charge you Mols. You did intend to cause bodily harm to Lily, and as first responding officer, I cannot ignore the fact that I found Lily in the bathtub with you. She would have died from heat exhaustion or drowned. It’s out of our hands. Prosecution has a solid case, and have decided to file charges…” He leaned his forehead on the steering wheel, “there’s nothing I can do…”

“There is one thing.” She sniffed, holding back tears. “Can you not cuff me?” He smiled slightly, nodding

“Yeah. Just stay by my side. You’ll be fine.”

“Thanks Greg. You’re a good friend.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I still have to bring John and Sherlock in for some paperwork…” Greg said as he shifted the car into gear, worried about their eventual confrontation.

 

“Bye Daddy! Bye Sherry!” Rosie yelled and waved as she ran into the nursery, joining a group of toddlers her age in the garden. Lily’s eyes however were locked on her two parents, lip curled in disgust as she glanced up at the woman who was holding her, reaching slightly for Sherlock, shaking her head no.

“We’ll get her to settle, some little ones are like this in the morning,” the woman holding the younger Holmes said. 

“They’ll be fine Sherlock.” John said. He tried to pull Sherlock away from the front gate but to no avail. His eyes were steadily fixed on Rosie in the garden, playing with other children under the supervision of three adults.

“These… caretakers, John. Are you sure they are qualified?” Sherlock asked while he deduced their life story. “That one in red was obviously abused when she was a child. Don’t you think it’s… John?” He turned around only to find John waiting in the cab.

“Come on! We’re late!” John yelled from the open cab door.

Sherlock reluctantly boarded the cab and kept his eyes on the house until it was no longer in sight. Somewhere in his mind, he subconsciously grasped the idea of why Mycroft worried constantly.


End file.
